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CHAPTERS 


OF    TIIK 


BIOGRAPHICAL   HISTORY 


FRENCH    ACADEMY. 


WITH   AN  APPEXDIX. 
RELATING   TO   THE   UlSTUBLISHED   MONASTIC   CHRONICLE. 

ENTITLED, 

LIBEB  JJE  HYDA. 


By 
EDWARD    EDWARDS. 


NEW  YORK : 
G.   P.   PliiLES  AND  CO..  G4,  XAbbAU  STREET. 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


VKIN'Fl)    BY 
J.    K.    ADLAKI),    1!ART110U)A«F.\V    ClOSE. 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/cliaptersofbiograOOedwaiala 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTERS    OF    THE    BIOGRAPHICAL    HISTORY    OF    Tllh 
FRENCH  ACADEMY :~ 

CHAP.  PAOi: 

I.  Summary. — View   of  the  History    of    the   Academv 

IN  GENERAL;  AND  OF  ITS  INFLUENCE  ON  FkENCH  LITE- 
RATURE.— Sources  of  the  History        .  .  .         H 

II.  The   Founders. — The   Hotel   de  Rambouillet. — The 

Quarrel  concerning  The  Cid  .  .  .        ^ 

III.  The  early  Elections  and  Exclusions. — The  expulsion 

OF  THE  Abbe  de  St.  Pierre. — The  Academic  impedi- 
ments   AND    ultimate    TRIUMPH    OF    MoNTESQUIEU. — 

The  strength  and  the  weakness  of  Voltaire  — 
His  Speech  to  the  Academy    .  .  .       -22 

IV.  BUFFON;     THE    Coi  RT     DEVOTEE,    PaRaDIS    DE    MoNCRIF  ; 

AND  THE  Discourse  on  Style. — The  Disgraces  of 
Thomas. — Chamfort  and  Mirabeau. — The  Academy 
dissolved  .  .  .  .  .  .38 

V.  Retrospective  glance  at  the  Academic  Prizes  and 
their  results,  up  to  the  Revolutionary  Dissolu- 
tion.— Creation  of  the  Institute  of  France,  and  its 
subsequent  reorganiz.\tion  bv  Napoleon. — Return 
OF  THE  old  Academicians  who  had  survived  the 
Revolution       .  .  .  .  .       io 

VI.  Destutt  de  Tracy  ;  nis  Life,  Philosophy,  and  Acade- 
mical reception. — His  minor  Writings  and  Death  .       50 

VII.  Chateaubriand  and  Napoleon  I. — The  Writer,  the 
Exile,  the  Academician,  and  the  Statesman. — An 
Imperial  Audience  at  Saint-Cloud. — The  Public 
Life  of  Chateaubriand  during  the  Restoration. — 
'Tn&  Memoirs  FROM  BEioyo  THE  Grave  .  .      .)*^ 


2b03;;ii4 


CONTENTS. 

lllAl'.  TAGK 

VIII.  Napoleox  and  the  Poets. — The  Caeeer  of  Lemeucier. 

— TUE  roElTvY-PBlZE  01?  THE  BeLLE  FOVLE  EXPE- 
DITION.— The  Academy  xjndek  the  Restokation. — 
The  "  Law  or  Justice  and  of  Love  "  .  .  .77 

IX.  The  Stiufe  of  Classicists  and  Romanticists. — The 
Academical  Candidatuues  of  Casimik  Ue  la  Vigne, 
AND  OF  Victor  Hugo     .  .  .  .  .82 

X.  Alexis  de  TocauE\  ille. — His  Work  on  North  America. 
— His  Reception  at  the  Academy. — His  other 
Writings  and  Political  Life  .  .  .  .86 

XI.  Alfred  DE  VioNY  AND  the  Count  DE  Mole         .  .     100 

XII.    TuE  COUX'I    DE   MONTALEMBERT,  AND   THE    AbBS   LaOOR- 

DAIRE        .......       104 

XIII.  The  GojiERT  Prizes  for  French  History. — The  Frizes 

OF  Baron  de  Montyon  .....    113 

XIV.  The   Recent  Elections. — The   Candidature    of  the 

Emperor. — The  Pamphlet  of  Bishop  Dupanloup       .    118 


II.  THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  KING  ALFRED;  WITH 
SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  AN  UNPRINTED  CHRONICLE 
OF  ANGLO-SAXON  HISTORY. 

I.  ('oscuHiHiiG  iiiE  Book  OF  HroE  jBBBr  .  .  .129 

IT.  The  Relative  Status  of  the  Historians  of  Alfred. — 
H.vrmony  of  the  Principal  Events  of  his  Life,  as 
narrated  (1)  IN  the  Sjxon  Chronicle,-  (2)  in  the 
Ansau  ascribed  to  Asser  of  St.  David's;  (3)  in 
i\i&  Book  OF  Hide  Abbey  ....  136 
111  List  of  Authorities  quoted  by  the  Hyde  Chronicler.  161 
IV.  Concerning  the  Documents  exhibited  in  the  Hyde 
Chartvlary. — Text  of  Alfred's  Will  in  Anglo- 
Saxon  and  in  Middle  English.  .  .  .    165 


I. 

CHAPTERS  OF  THE  BIOGRAPHICAL  HISTORY 

OE  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY. 

1629  —  1863. 


"  True,  indeed,  it  is 
Tliat  they  whom  Death  has  hidden  from  our  sight 
Are  worthiest  of  the  mind's  regard ;  with  these 
The  Future  cannot  contradict  the  Past : 
Mortality's  last  exercise  and  proof 
Is  undergone ;  the  transit  made  that  shows 
Tlie  very  Soul,  revealed  as  she  departs. 
Yet  (as  you  have  suggested), — I  shall  give, — 
Whilst  we  descend  into  those  silent  vaults, — 
Some  pictures  from  the  Living." 

The  Excursion,  v. 


CHAPTER  I. 

RETROSPECTIVE  GLANCES  AT  THE  GENERAL  HISTORY  OF  TEE 
FRENCH  ACADEMY,  AND  AT  ITS  INFLUENCE  ON  FRENCH 
LITERATURE. 

On  this  side  tiie  Channel,  we  have  been  accustomed  to 
think  of  endowed  and  privileged  literary  associations,  as  of 
a  somewhat  cumbrous  machinery  for  thrusting  the  heads  of 
dwarfs  up  to  a  temporary  level  with  the  heads  of  great  men. 
We  cannot,  or  cannot  very  easily,  enter  into  the  views  and 
feelings  with  which  many  highly  educated  and  accomplished 
I'renchmen  will  talk  of  the  private  doings,  and  of  the  public 
displays  of  the  "  French  Academy."  When  we  find  a  man 
of  the  world,  and  a  statesman — as  well  as  a  distinguished 
author — like  the  Count  de  Montalembert,  writing  (as  he 
wrote  in  1863)  of  the  membership  of  the  French  Academy, 
as  being  "  the  noblest  reward  which,  in  our  days,  can 
crown  a  glorious  and  independent  life,"  we  are  apt  to  regard 
it  as,  at  all  events,  a  highly  rhetorical  phrase.  The  flutter 
of  excitement  which  an  academical  election  in  Paris  often 
creates,  amongst  the  men  of  high  scholarship,  and  of  varied 
experience  of  life,  as  well  as  amongst  the  fashionable  writers 
of  the  passing  day,  seems  to  us  overstrained,  if  it  be  not 
puerile.     And  we  cannot  forget  that  in  some  well-known 


dciiiies. 


4        BESETTING  SINS  OF  LITERARY  ACADEMIES. 

instances,  elsewhere  than  in  France,  academic  honours  have 
served  to  drape  very  poor  performances  in  showy  costmiies. 
Ti,c  beset-  When  the  institution  from  whose  history  it  is  the  object 
iit,n,ry  aca-  of  thcsc  pagcs  to  sclcct  some  sahent  chapters,  was  yet  in 
its  cradle,  the  witty  epistolographer  Balzac  wrote  to  his 
friend  Chapelain  : — "  You  tell  me  you  have  been  received 
into  the  '  Academie  des  beaux  esprits.'  May  I  ask  who 
are  those  '  dea/fx  esprits '  who  have  received  you  ?"  Bal- 
zac's inquiry  points,  with  quiet  sarcasm,  to  a  reproach  to 
wliich  learned  academicians,  in  all  countries,  have  frequently 
laid  themselves  opcui.  An  association  exclusively  composed 
of  men  of  great  genius,  and  of  lofty  ambition,  would  be, 
indeed, 

"  A  monater,  whicli  the  world  ne'er  saw." 

An  association  of  mixed  materials,  including,  as  it  needs 
must  include,  men  of  small  parts,  and  of  petty  aims  in  life, 
is  sure  to  possess  a  tendency  towards  the  fostering  of  me- 
diocrity, the  growth  of  servility,  and  the  pedantic  display 
of  minute  learning.  But,  whether  such  tendencies  shall, 
in  the  long  run,  be  developed,  or  be  held  in  check,  seems  to 
me  to  be  a  question,  partly,  perhaps,  of  organization,  but 
partly  of  social  atmosphere. 

If,  from  the  days  of  the  Intronaii  of  Sienna,  and  the  Infiam- 
mati  of  Padua,  downwards,  literary  history  abounds  with 
instances  in  which  the  lower  elements  of  learned  Corpora- 
tions— as  of  Corporations  unlearned — have  become  domi- 
nant over  the  higher,  it  also  tells  us  of  Academies  which 
have  done  their  proper  conjunctive  work  with  eminent 
success,  and  have,  at  the  same  time,  so  governed  themselves 
as  to  make  the  nobler  qualities  and  aspirations  of  their 
members  bear  rule  over  the  less  noble.  Organize  a  learned 
Academy  as  you  will,  small  corporate  interests  and  small 
personal  temptations  will,  occasionally,  give  birth  to  cabals 


WHAT  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY  HAS  ACHIEVED.     5 

and  cliques.  In  cliques,  you  will  be  sure  to  find  worship- 
pers of  success,  however  obtained,  and  tools  of  power, 
however  directed.  But  in  some  "  Academies  "  these  baser 
spirits  are  found  to  nm  riot ;  in  others  they  are  habitually 
kept  under.  Hence  it  is  that  I  think  the  present  topic 
one  which  may  be  usefully  treated.  It  is  also  a  topic  which 
may  reasonably  be  thought  to  need  no  extraordinary  ability, 
or  exceptional  advantages,  in  order  to  its  useful  treatment. 
One  special  advantage,  indeed,  it  possesses — in  itself — for 
the  present  writer.  It  is,  so  far  as  is  known  to  me,  un- 
touched in  English  literature.  And  the  freshness  of  a 
subject  tends  powerfully  to  eke  out  humble  means  of 
handling  it. 

There  will,  I  think,  be  httle  difficulty  in  showinor  that     ^''*'  "'« 

"  French    Aca- 

even  in  times  which  try,  most  searchingly,  of  what  sort  of  demy  has  a- 
clay  men  are  made,  the  French  Academy  has  inhaled,  freely, 
the  wholesome  air  of  public  opinion ;  and  has  used  its  pri- 
vileges, its  endowments,  and  its  reputation,  on  behalf  of  the 
great  permanent  interests  of  Society  at  large.  It  has 
— if  I  have  at  all  read  its  history  aright — set  a  good  exam- 
ple to  institutions  more  important,  but  not  less  assailable, 
than  itself.  If  this  can  truthfully  be  said  of  a  privileged 
society,  which  had  Richelieu  for  its  founder,  Lewis  XIV 
for  its  benefactor,  and  Napoleon  I  for  its  re-organizer,  it 
may  fairly  seem  probable  that  our  current  insular  opinion 
concerning  literaiy  Academies  lies  open  to  some  degree  of 
revision.  And,  perhaps,  it  may  appear,  in  the  sequel  of  this 
narrative,  that  passing  circumstances  add  something  of 
immediate  interest  and  piquancy  to  this  topic,  for  English 
readers,  as  well  as  for  their  neighbours. 

The  Academy's  history  begins  with  the  obscure  meetings 
of  a  small  knot  of  men,  whose  chief  link  of  sympathy  was 


6  SOURCES  OF   THE   HISTORY  OF 

a  l(3vc  of  literature,  and  a  love  of  mutual  praise.  Meetings, 
truly,  of  a  sort  to  which  scores  of  parallels  might  be  found, 
in  almost  all  countries,  and  at  almost  all  periods.  It  is  no 
sooner  incorporated  than  it  is  plunged  into  literary  contro- 
versy. The  first  public  appearance  of  the  new  Academy 
exhibits  it  as  the  critical  assailant  of  one  of  the  most  famous 
works  in  French  literature.  For  some  time  it  threatens  to 
follow  in  the  too  easy  steps  of  the  many  societies  which 
have  bartered  servility  for  privilege,  and  praise  for  pelf. 
But,  after  much  conflict,  the  Academic  arena  becomes  an 
instrument  for  ventilating  and  for  disseminating  thoughts 
which  were  destined  to  germinate  far  and  wide,  and  to  be 
fruitful  in  ultimate  good,  even  when  seeming  to  aggravate 
present  evil.  Most  of  all,  it  becomes,  at  length,  one  of  the 
main  appliances,  by  means  of  which  the  greatest  achieve- 
ments of  intellects  that  were  strong  enough  to  press  through 
all  obstacles,  are  made  to  arouse,  to  stimulate  and  to  cheer, 
other  intellects,  not  quite  so  robust — it  may  be — and  still 
struggling  in  the  crowd,  but  rich  in  promise  and  in  latent 
power.  And  this  I  call  the  special  corporate  work  of  every 
literary  Academy  worthy  of  its  name. 


Sources  of  tlie 
Acailtiiiy 


It  may  deserve  remark  that,  even  for  French  readers, 
iiibiuiy.  the  stoiy  of  the  French  Academy,  as  a  whole,  has  yet  to  be 
told.  Pellisson  has  narrated  its  origin  and  beginnings 
with  loving  minuteness,  and  with  a  grace  of  style  of  which 
even  foreigners  can  feel  the  charm.  But  he  stops,  almost 
at  the  threshold,  with  the  year  1652.  D'Olivet  continued 
the  narrative,  but  with  much  less  attractiveness,  up  to 
1700.  D'Alembert,  as  is  well  known,  wrote  a  long  and 
able  series  of  memoirs  of  individual  Academicians,  in  which 
nmch  of  the  history  of  the  institution  is  embodied.  Other 
materials   abound,   but   they  are  widely  scattered.     The 


THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY.  7 

voluminous  collections  of  the  Academy  itself,  the  literary 
journals  of  two  centuries,  the  lives,  diaries,  and  correspon- 
dence of  men  of  letters  and  publicists,  contain  materials 
which  might  be  made  to  yield  vivid  illustrations  of  the 
progress  and  influence  of  a  society  whose  history,  in  an 
unusual  degree,  mirrors  the  intellectual  life  of  France,  at 
the  critical  periods  of  French  culture.  Nor  would  such  a 
narrative  be  simply  a  contribution  to  the  mental  history  of 
France.  The  impulsive  and  the  modifying  powers  of  a 
body  like  the  French  Academy  are  manifold,  and,  in  their 
results,  stretch  far  beyond  the  limits  of  its  immediate 
sphere.  The  influences  of  such  an  institution  upon  lan- 
guage ;  upon  the  fortunes  of  books ;  upon  the  tendencies 
of  nascent  literary  ambition ;  upon  the  rewards  of  that  am- 
bition, when  it  has  found  its  appropriate  field  of  labour ; 
upon  the  relations  between  the  men  of  thought  and  the  men 
of  action ; — these  are  all  questions  of  a  more  than  merely 
national  interest,  and  upon  all  of  them  such  a  narrative,  if 
well  written,  may  throw  valuable  light.  It  is  a  contribution 
to  what  our  German  friends  call  the  "  History  of  Culture," 
which  I  would  gladly  see  made. 

Here,  of  course,  I  can  attempt  no  such  task,  even  in  out- 
line. I  must  content  myself  with  a  few  individual  figures 
and  a  few  groups,  chosen  from  among  the  more  conspi- 
cuous personages  and  incidents  of  the  untold  story. 


THE  FOUNDERS  OF 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   FOUNDERS THE  HOTEL  DE  RAMBOUILLET THE 

ACADEMY  INCORPORATED THE  QUARREL  CONCERNING 

THE  CID. 

About  the  year  1 629,  a  few  Parisian  acquaintances  began 
iTic  Con-  to  gather  periodically  around  the  table  of  Valentine  Conrart, 

versazioui    of  />ii->  •  i  i*n  I'Lli'l.* 

Valentine  oHc  of  thc  KiDg  s  sccretarics,  but  chiefly  remarkable  for  his 
'^*'  ■  liberal  mind,  and  his  passionate  love  of  literature.  Conrart 
wished  to  establish  frequent  social  meetings,  at  which  books 
and  ideas  might  be  talked  of,  rather  than  events  and  repu- 
tations. Literary  Academies  had  long  been  prevalent  in 
Italy,  and  some  of  them  had  acquired  great  renown.  By 
this  time,  the  desire  for  something  of  the  same  sort  in 
France  seems  to  have  been  floating  in  the  air,  and  might 
have  germinated  almost  anywhere,  as  chance  directed. 
Menage  had  not  yet  established  his  "  Wednesdays,"  so 
frequently  mentioned  in  the  correspondence  of  the  middle 
of  the  century,  nor  Mile,  de  Scud^ri  those  "  Saturdays " 
which  occupy  so  prominent  a  place  in  the  chronicles  of  the 
precieux  and  the  precieuses.  But  Colletet  had  his  literary 
gatherings,  as  well  as  Conrart.  And  Death  had  only  just 
closed  Malherbe^s  humble  apartment,  on  the  outside  of 
which  courtly  aspirants — patient,  although  eager  for  admis- 
sion— had  to  wait,  because,  as  he  was  wont  to  tell  them 
through  the  closed  door,  the  chairs  were  all  occupied  within. 
Mile,  de  Gournay,  too,  had  her  frequent  receptions  for  the 
worship  of  Montaigne,  for  the  admiring  perusal  of  her  own 
extensive  correspondence,  and  for  the  elaborate  defence  of 
those  beloved  archaisms  which  the  rising  tide  of  literary 
innovation  was  threatening  to  sweep  away. 


THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY.  9 

Still  more  attractive  were  the  assemblies  of  the  Hotel  de 
Rambouillet,  the  centre  of  all  that  was  refined  and  fashion- 
able in  the  Paris  of  the  day,  where  plays  and  banquets, 
surprises  and  masquerades,  took  their  turn  with  the  more  jj^'.^„,""jif 
sober  enjoyments  of  readings  and  conversation,  and  where  ^^t. 
the  puerilities  and  the  pedantries  which  so  easily  gather 
around  a  literary  coterie  were  somewhat  kept  down  by  the 
frequent  presence  of  men  of  long  experience  in  the  council 
and  the  camp. 

But,  despite  that  partial  restraint,  it  may  with  truth 
be  asserted  that  most  of  the  intimates  of  the  Hotel  de 
Rambouillet  left  their  everyday  existence  at  its  doors  as 
they  entered,  and  became,  for  the  time,  mere  personages  of 
romance.  In  their  hands,  literature  lost  its  needful  curbs 
and  its  wholesome  dependence  on  ordinary  sympathies 
and  common  interests.  It  ceased  to  breathe  the  bracing 
air  of  public  opinion,  and  was  coddled  into  sickliness  by 
the  heated  and  perfumed  atmosphere  of  that  splendid 
circle,  which  is  now  chiefly  remembered  by  bibhomaniacs, 
when  they  turn  over  the  leaves  of  the  coveted  rarity  entitled. 
La  Guirlande  de  Julie.  Even  within  its  own  generation, 
the  day  came  when  almost  the  sole  results  of  those  brilliant, 
ambitious,  and  long-continued  gatherings  were,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  interminable  Clelias,  and  Grand  Cyruses,  of  Mile, 
de  Scuderi,  and  her  many  imitators;  and  on  the  other 
Les  Precieuses  Ridicules  of  Moliere. 

Conrart's  quiet  gatherings  made  no  pretensions  to  vie 
with  such  gay  entertainments  as  these.    But  they  had  their 
share  of  small  affectations,  and  many  of  the  members  were 
versifiers  of  that  unhappy   order  whose  productions    are     xiie  smaii 
remembered  only  because  they  have  been  piquantly  em-     ^^.^^^ 
balmed  by  the  satirists  of  another  generation.     The  most     ^^^''"y- 
distinguished  member  of  the  circle  was  Jean  Chapelain,  who 


Richelieu 
licars  of  tlic 
infant     Ac;i- 
demy, 


And 


10  WHY  DTD  RICHELIEU  INCORPORATE 

would  have  died,  as  he  had  long  lived,  with  the  reputation 
of  being  a  great  but  very  modest  poet,  had  he  not,  un- 
luckily, been  prevailed  upon,  at  length,  to  give  his  poem  to 
the  press.  He  sold  six  editions  within  a  few  months,  and 
not  a  single  copy  ever  afterwards. 

These  assemblies  would  probably  have  continued  their 
unassuming  course,  but  for  the  intervention  of  Richelieu, 
whose  curiosity  had  been  excited  by  some  rumour  of  their 
pursuits,  and  who,  after  he  had  made  repeated  inquiries 
about  the  members,  signified  his  desire  to  become  their 
patron,  and  to  cause  their  incorporation. 

Those  who  love  to  discover  mean  motives  for  pregnant 
deeds  have  often  represented  Richelieu's  anxiety  to  create 
solves  to  in-  ^^^  Academy  as  arising  from  a  desire  to  enslave  Hterature, 
corporate  it.  j^g^  g^y  ^j^gy^  ^s  hc  had  already  enslaved  France.  More 
recently,  Michelet  has  stigmatised  him  as  bent  on  confining 
the  Academicians  to  mere  "  word-poUshing,"  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  all  commerce  with  ideas.  But  neither  charge  is 
sustained  by  the  evidence.  Nor  was  Richelieu  usually  so 
little  skilled  in  shaping  his  means  to  his  ends.  That  love 
of  learning  which  made  hira  take  an  intense  interest  in  the 
fortunes  of  the  drama,  at  a  moment  when  he  was  at  once 
struggling  with  court  conspiracies,  and  opening  a  new  cam- 
paign against  Spain,  may  well  suggest  the  possibility  that 
he  foresaw  something  of  the  future  of  French  literature, 
and  may  have  anticipated  the  glory  of  at  least  connecting 
his  name  with  its  history,  even  if  he  should  fail  in  his  efforts 
to  make  personal  contribution  to  its  enduring  treasures. 
The  bare  name  of  a  "  man  of  letters  "  was  always  a  suffi- 
cient claim  to  Richelieu's  courteous  attention.  To  those 
sincere  "^'bvc  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^  worthily  he  showed  marks  of  respect  which  he 
of  letters,      sccms  ncvcr  to  have  accorded  to  mere  rank.    If  he  listened. 


THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY?  11 

with  some  impatience,  to  strictures  on  his  own  dramatic 
plots,  he  bore  no  grudge  to  his  critics.  When,  for  exam- 
ple, he  had,  on  one  occasion,  angrily  torn  in  pieces  an 
elaborate  criticism  on  his  '  Grande  Pastorale^  he  caused 
the  fragments  to  be  carefully  put  together,  spent  great  part 
of  the  night  in  pondering  them,  and  then  sent  to  thank 
the  critic  for  his  advice,  which,  he  said,  he  would  follow, 
being  convinced  that  "  they  understood  such  matters  better 
than  he  did."  This  w^as  not  the  way  of  a  man  who  wished 
to  have  about  him  mere  puppets,  whose  strings  he  might 
pull  at  pleasure. 

The  letters-patent  were  drawn  up  in  January,  1635,  and 
were  sealed  by  Chancellor  Seguier,  who  expressed  his  wish     ^^  .  ^^ 
to  become  a  member.     When  sent  to  the  Parliament  to  be  of  the  letters- 
registered,  they  met  with  violent  opposition.     To  some. of 
the  lawyers  it  is  evident  that  the  occasion  was  but  a  pre- 
text.    They  disliked  the  Academy  because  they  hated  its 
patron.     Others  seem  really  to    have  feared  that  the  new 
institution  was  to  be  used  as  a  political  weapon.     They 
imagined  that,  when  once  estabhshed,  its  functions  might, 
possibly,  be  modified  at  the  will  of  the  patron,  until  it 
should  become  a  dangerous  rival   to   the  old   tribunals. 
Others,  again,  who  were  in  the  daily  habit  of  taking  great 
liberties  with  the  French  language,  looked  jealously  at  the 
rise  of  a  corporation  avowedly  created  for  its  protection,  dices  of  the 
One  learned  councillor — the  father  of  the  satirist  Scarron —   ag^kiit^he 
resented  the   proposal  as  an  attack  on  the  Parliament's    ^^J^ 
dignity.     It  reminded  him,  he  said,  of  that  Roman  Em- 
peror who,  after  stripping  the  Senate  of  all  power  over 
public  business,  sent  to  ask  its  opinion  as  to   the  best 
method   of  dressing  a  turbot.     At  last,  Richelieu  himself 
had    to   write  a   letter  to  the   Parliament  explanatory  of 
the   Academy's    objects;    and   so,   after   a  delay  of  two 


12  THE  LETTERS-PATENT  OF 

years  and  a  half,  the  registration  was  effected,  but  only  after 
the  insertion  of  a  cautious  proviso  "  that  the  members  of 
the  said  Academy  shall  concern  themselves  only  with  such 
books  as  shall  be  either  written  by  themselves,  or  submitted 
to  them  by  the  authors  thereof/' 

Prejudice  against  the  new  establishment  was  not  confined 
to  the  lawyers.  Strange  rumours  as  to  its  purpose  were 
spread  about  the  city.  The  popular  cry  against  'Mono- 
poly '  which,  a  year  or  two  later,  raised  such  turbulent 
crowds  in  the  streets  of  London,  and  had  such  memorable 
consequences,  was  applied  in  Paris  to  the  harmless  Acade- 
micians. A  diarist  of  the  day  has  recorded  that  a  man 
who  had  just  contracted  to  take  a  house,  near  that  in 
which  their  early  meetings  were  held,  having  inquired 
the  cause  of  an  uimsual  concourse  of  carriages  which  had 
attracted  his  attention,  refused  to  carry  out  his  bargain, 
because,  said  he,  "  I  will  not  live  in  a  street  in  which  there 
is  to  be  every  week  a  *  Cademie  de  ManopoleursJ  *' 

Whilst  the  registration  of  the  letters-patent  was  yet 
the  statutes,  pending,  the  statutes  had  been  drawn  up,  and  had  received 
Richelieu's  sanction.  The  only  change  he  made  in  them 
was  to  strike  out  a  silly  clause  engaging  each  Academician 
"  to  revere  the  virtues  and  memory  of  their  Protector." 
Pellisson  has  preserved  a  sort  of  preface  intended  to  accom- 
pany the  statutes,  but  not  published,  which  may  serve  to 
show  what  were  the  anticipations  of  the  original  members. 
"  Our  language,"  it  is  there  said,  "  already  more  perfect 
tiian  any  other  living  tongue,  may  well,  in  course  of  time, 
succeed  the  Latin,  as  the  Latin  succeeded  the  Greek,  pro- 
vided greater  care  than  heretofore  be  taken  of  the  elocu- 
tion. .  .  .  Let  it  be  the  function  of  the  Academicians  to 
pm'ify  the  language  from  the  barbarisms  it  has  contracted, 
whether  in  the  mouths  of  the  populace  or  in  the  throng  of 


The  letters- 
pat  int      and 


THE  FKENCH  ACADEMY.  13 

the  law-courts  (dans  la  foide  du  Palais),  and  amidst  the 
impurities  of  chicanery  ;  or  by  the  bad  customs  of  ignorant 
courtiers ;  or  by  the  abuses  of  those  who  write  it  corruptly, 
or  who  utter  in  the  pulpits  what  ought,  indeed,  to  be  said, 
but  is  said  in  a  wrong  way/' 

The  number  of  the  Academicians  was  fixed  at  forty. 
In  order  to  an  election  or  an  exclusion,  twenty  must  be 
present ;  the  votes  must  be  taken  by  ballot ;  and  the  ma- 
jority must  not  be  less  than  four.  A  perpetual  secretary, 
a  director,  and  a  chancellor,  each  serving  for  two  months, 
and  re-eligible,  are  also  to  be  chosen  by  ballot.  The  choice 
of  new  members  is  to  have  the  sanction  of  the  Protector. 
The  only  other  restrictive  condition  is  that  the  members 
shall  be  "  de  bonnes  moeurs,  de  bonne  reputation,  de  ban 
esprit,  et  propres  aux  fonctions  academiques."  The  ordi- 
nary meetings  are  to  be  held  once  a  week.  The  chief 
functions  of  the  Academy,  it  is  enacted,  shall  be  **  to  labour 
with  all  possible  care  and  diligence  to  give  fixed  rules  to 
the  language,  and  to  make  it  more  eloquent,  and  fitter  for 
the  treatment  of  the  arts  and  sciences."  The  best  authors 
are  to  be  distributed  amongst  the  Academicians,  in  order 
that  such  rules  may  be  elicited.  A  Dictionary,  a  Gram- 
mar, a  systematic  treatise  on  Rhetoric,  and  another  on 
Poetry,  are  to  be  composed.  A  discourse  on  some  subject 
chosen  by  the  Academy  is  to  be  made,  weekly,  by  each 
Academician  in  turn.  All  works  submitted  to  the  Aca-  The  special 
demy's  judgment  are  to  be  referred  to  the  examination  of  ouMTlTa- 
a  committee,  who  shall  report  to  the  whole  body,  for  its  '^'""^' 
decision. 

Almost  as  soon  as  Richelieu's  proposal  had  been  accepted, 
sixteen  new  Academicians  were  added  to  the  original  eleven. 
Boisrobert,  one  of  the  Cardinal's  confidants,  was  zealous  in 
beating  for  recruits,  and,  in  the  opinion  of  some  of  his 


The  corrc- 
s|>i)iulence  uf 

Clinpclain 
w  illi  Balzac. 


14  CHAPELAIN  AND  BALZAC. 

colleagues,  was  only  too  successful.  Chapelain  was  more 
chary  of  the  honour,  but  was  very  anxious  to  enlist  Balzac, 
that  prince  of  phraseniaking  epistolographers,  who,  for  a 
while,  coquetted  with  the  proffer.  '*  Whatever  you  may 
say,"  he  wrote  to  his  inviter,  "  I  am  afraid  you  will  not 
persuade  me.  It  will  be  difficult  for  me  to  adore  that 
rising  sun  you  speak  of.  I  am  told  that  it  is  to  be  a 
tyranny  ruling  over  minds,  to  which  we  book-makers  must 
give  blind  obedience.  If  that  be  so,  I  am  a  rebel." 
Chapelain  replies  that  it  is  not  so,  at  aU ;  that  the  alarms 
are  quite  groundless,  and  that  his  correspondent  must  be 
elected  immediately.  The  affair  now  wears  a  new  aspect. 
Balzac  begins  to  perceive  that  "  this  new  society  will  do 
honour  to  France,  will  make  Italy  jealous,  and — if  I  have 
any  skill  in  horoscope — will  soon  become  the  oracle  of 
civilized  Europe."  But  he  still  complains  that  the 
Academy  includes  some  members  who  are  only  qualified 
to  act  as  "  beadles  "  to  it,  and  begs  that  at  least  there  may 
be  two  classes  of  members,  so  that  "  the  patricians  shall  be 
separated  from  the  mob."  He  is  forced,  however,  to  be 
content  with  a  place  among  the  crowd.  Other  new  mem- 
bers are  elected,  during  1G34  and  1635,  which  raise  the 
number  to  thirty-nine.  The  most  distinguished  of  them 
were  Voiture,  De  Vaugelas,  Cureau  de  la  Chambre,  and 
Pierre  Seguier,  Chancellor  of  France.  The  Academy  began 
the  exercise  of  its  public  functions  amidst  a  literary  storm, 
the  circumstances  of  which  are,  perhaps,  curious  enough  to 
warrant  a  digression. 
Tiic  contro-  Thc  appcaraucc  of  The  Cid,  a  few  months  before  the  re- 
nccid  gistration  of  the  Academy's  letters-patent,  had  been  wel- 
comed by  the  public  with  enthusiasm.  But  the  public  had 
been  almost  as  enthusiastic,  a  little  earlier,  about  Mairet's 
Sophonisbe,  and  even  about  Tristan's  Marianne.     The  no* 


THE  CONTROVEESY  ON  TSE  CID.  15 

proverbial  "  C'est  beau  comme  le  Cid,'^  might,  perchance, 
prove  as  short-Uved  as  the  "  Cest  du  Godeau  "  had  been. 
At  all  events,  the  many  rivals  whom  Corneille's  success 
threw  into  the  shade,  were  eager  to  prove  to  the  public  that 
what  pleased  it  so  mightily  ought  not  to  have  pleased  it  at 
all ;  that  the  very  subject  was  totally  unfitted  for  the  drama, 
and   the   execution   opposed   to   all   the    "rules  of  art/' 
Georges  de  Scuderi  was  foremost  in  taking  the  field.     He 
had  already  written  a  dozen  tragi-comedies,  abounding  in 
aflectation,  puerilities,  and  bad  taste  of  all  kinds,  but  re- 
garded by  himself  as  precious  gifts,  for  which  the  pubhc 
was  bound  to  be  the  more  grateful,  as  coming  from  one  of 
a  family  in  which,  until  then,  '*  on  navait  jamais  eu   de 
plume  quau  chapeau."     He  began  his  attack  by  undertak- 
ing to  prove  that  "  the  plot  of  The  Cid  is  worthless ;"  that 
"  the  play  ofiends  against  the  chief  rules  of  dramatic  poetry, 
and  that  it  contains  a  multitude  of  bad  verses ;"  and  he 
finally  alleges  that  "  almost  all  such  beauties  as  it  has  are 
stolen."     Lest  any  one  should  think  it  possible  that  some 
spice  of  envy  might  be  mixed  up  with  so  trenchant  a  criti- 
cism, he  conjures  the  reader  "  to  believe  that  so  base  a  vice 
is  not  in  my  nature.     Being  what  I  am,  if  I  had  any  am- 
bition, it  would  aim  at  something  loftier  than  the  renown 
of  this  author."     Such  a  programme  and  such  an  assevera- 
tion exhibit  the  assailant.    He  was  silly  enough  not  to  stop 
even  there.     He  sent  Corneille  a  letter  which  read  like  a 
challenge.     "  There  is  no   need,"   replied   the  poet,  "  to  ^^^^J^  ^ 
ascertain  whether  you  or  I  be  the  most  noble  or  the  most  neiiic,    and 
valiant  person,  in  order  to  judge  whether  or  not  TJie  Cid  be  reply. 
a  better  play  than  I'he  Liberal  Lover.     I  am  not  *  a  man 
of  explanations'   {d'eclaircissemens),  so  that  you  are  safe  on 
that  side."     The  warHke  critic  then  betook  himself  to  the 
new  Academy,   and   solicited   its   judgment  between  the 


16        WHY  DID  RICHELIEU  CONDEMN  THE  CIDf 

dramatist  and  the  reviewer.  The  Academicians  were  in  no 
haste  to  interfere.  They  could  foresee  many  phases  to  such 
a  contest,  and  some  perils  to  their  infant  society.  Chapelain 
shared  in  the  public  admiration  sufficiently  to  assure  one  of 
his  friends  that  he  had  lost  a  great  treat  in  being  absent 
from  the  performance  of  The  Cid,  and  to  write  to  another 
that,  in  his  opinion,  the  subject,  the  ideas,  and  the  embel- 
lishments, were  aHke  deserving  of  the  applause  they  had 
received,  although  he  "could  not  but  deem  the  author 
fortunate  in  not  having  to  stand  the  test  of  the  more  culti- 
vated criticism  of  Italy."  It  seems  to  have  needed  the 
intervention  of  the  Cardinal  himself  to  obtain  a  formal 
warrant  for  an  Academic  inquiry  into  the  respective  merits 
of  Corneille  and  his  critics. 
wi.y   did      i^he   aspersions   which  have  been   so  lavishly  cast  on 

Richelieu  ■"■  ,  ,  '' 

condemn  n<r  almost  all  thc  cvcuts  of  Richelieu's  career,  are  not  lack- 
ing even  to  this  little  incident.  Corneille  had  served  on 
that  poetic  staff  with  whose  five  members  the  Cardinal 
was  wont  to  work  on  his  dramatic  projects.  It  is  very 
likely  that  the  poet  may  have  corrected  the  statesman's 
rough  drafts  somewhat  too  freely.  But  to  infer  that 
Richelieu  bore  him  malice  on  that  score  is  gratuitous. 
Unsupported  by  evidence,  its  probability  is  opposed  by 
what  is  known  to  have  happened  on  a  similar  occasion. 
The  still  more  foolish  story  that  Richelieu  had  offered 
Corneille  100,000  crowns  for  the  MS.  of  The  Cid,— md 
silence, — carries  its  own  refutation.  Two  aspects  of  that 
famous  tragedy,  which  are  altogether  independent  of  its 
literary  worth,  might  have  served  to  explain  Richelieu's  dis- 
taste, without  any  ascription  of  base  motives.  It  defended 
duelling,*  when  the  energies  of  the  government  were  tasked 

*  In  the  verses  which  begin — 

"  Les  satisfactions  u'apaisent  point  unu  ame,"  &c. 


THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY  AND  THE  CID.  17 

to  put  down  a  practice  which  had  grown  into  a  pestilence. 
It  glorified  Spain,  when  France  had  to  struggle  with  her. 
Very  easily  may  the  critics  of  another  age  sever  the  in- 
trinsic beauties  of  a  play  from  the  timeliness  or  untimehness 
of  its  appearance,  the  merits  or  demerits  of  its  personages, 
and  the  logical  or  illogical  character  of  their  arguments. 
But  dates  are  important.  The  Englishman  who  should 
have  thrown  a  poetic  halo  over  Spanish  heroes,  just  at  the 
moment  when  other  Englishmen  were  arming  against  a 
Spanish  fleet,  would  scarcely,  I  think,  have  found  an  audi- 
ence so  impartial  as  that  which  greeted  Tlie  Cid  with 
tumultuous  applause,  in  the  'year  of  Corbie,'  as  1636  was 
significantly  called. 

However  this  may  have  been,  the  Cardinal's  wishes 
were  now  known.  The  chief  obstacle  in  the  way  of 
their  gratification  lay  in  that  clause  of  the  statutes 
which  forbade  the  Academy  from  sitting  in  judgment 
on  any  works  not  submitted  to  it  by  their  author. 
Possibly  this  proviso  may  have  been  inserted  expressly 
with  a  view  to  the  pending  controversy.  Comeille's  con- 
sent was  therefore  indispensable.  Boisrobert  plied  him 
with  both  arguments  and  entreaties  ;  in  reply  to  which  he 
obtained  only  excuses,  in  the  shape  of  compliments.  The 
occupation,  said  Comeille,  was  unworthy  of  the  Academy's 
dignity.  Scuderi's  pamphlet  deserved  no  answer  from 
him,  and  therefore  could  not  deserve  to  occupy  the  time  of 
the  Academicians.  Such  an  inquiry,  too,  would  be  a  bad  The  course 
precedent,  since  it  would  give  to  the  meanest  writers  the  neiiie.  '^ 
notion  that  directly  any  great  work  was  produced,  they  were 
empowered  to  enter  into  a  controversy  with  the  author  in 
presence  of  the  French  Academy.  But,  in  June,  1637, 
when  told  that  the  Cardinal  was  very  desirous  that  he 
should  comply,  he  answered  :  "  The  Academicians  may  do 

3 


IH  TIICHELTEU'S  COMMITTEE. 

as  they  please.  Since  you  tell  me  that  the  Cardinal  will 
be  very  glad  to  see  their  opinion,  and  that  it  will  amuse 
His  Eminence,  I  have  nothing  more  to  say." 

Upon  this  small  concession,  the  Academy  appointed  a 
Committee  for  the  examination  of  the  play,  and  of  Scuderi's 
Observations,  consisting  of  Chapelain,  Boiirzeys,  and 
Desmarets.  Two  months  afterwards,  Chapelain  writes  to 
Balzac :  "  The  task  could  not  have  been  given  to  a  man 
less  capable  than  I  am  of  satisfying  the  public  expectations. 
....  What  embarrasses  me  is  that  I  am  forced  to 
offend  both  great  and  small,  the  Court  and  the  Town,  and 
myself  too,  in  dealing  with  a  subject  which  ought  not  to  be 
treated  by  us.  There  is  nothing  more  odious,  nothing 
which  a  discreet  man  should  more  carefully  avoid,  than 
publicly  to  find  fault  with  a  work  for  which  either  the 
author's  reputation  or  his  good  fortune  has  won  general 
approval."  Comeille,  on  the  other  hand,  assures  Bois- 
robert  that  he  is  "  looking  with  much  impatience  for  the 
Academy's  opinion,  that  he  may  know  what  course  to 
take.  Till  then,"  he  adds,  with  a  sharp  stroke  of  irony, 
"  I  can  only  work  with  some  misgiving,  and  shall  not  know 
how  to  employ  words  with  certainty."  When  the  criticism 
was  submitted  to  Richeheu,  he  approved  of  its  substance, 
but  thought  that  it  wanted  the  graces  of  style.  "  You 
must,"  he  said,  "throw  in  a  few  handfuls  of  flowers." 
This  business  of  embellishment  was  entrusted  to  some 
worthy  members,  who  were  so  prodigal  of  their  flowers  as 
to  bury  the  argument  beneath  them,  and  to  anger  the 
Cardinal.  He  sent  to  desire  that  some  of  the  Academi- 
cians would  attend  him  forthwith.  When  the  audience 
was  given,  he  addressed  himself  more  particularly  to 
Chapelain  (who  has  left  a  curiously  minute  account  of  the 
interview),  and  with  so  much  animation  as  to  seize  him  by 


THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY  AND  THE  CID.  19 

the  button  of  his  coat,  "  as  one  does  unconsciously,  when 
very  earnestly  bent  on  convincing  an  opponent."  The 
result  was  that  Chapelain  had  again  to  revise  the  whole. 
When  the  task  was  finally  completed,  the  chief  author  was 
able  to  say  with  a  good  conscience,  "  I  believe  the  doctrine 
to  be  sound,  and,  in  my  opinion,  equity  and  moderation 
prevail  throughout." 

Les  Sentiments  de  V Academic  Fran^aise  sur  la  Tragedie 
du  Cid  accorded  high  praise  to  many  portions  of  the  work. 
The  "  irregularities  "  of  the  plot  were  pointed  out,  as,  by  ^^^  p"^|''' 
Academicians,  they  could  scarcely  fail  to  be.     But  it  was  'Sentinients 
added  that  "  even  the  learned  ought  to  tolerate  indulgently  Fr<mfai»c.' 
the  irregularities  of  a  work  which  would  not  have  had  the 
good  fortune  to  please  the  multitude  so  highly,  had  it  not 
possessed  uncommon  merits.      The   freshness   and   vehe- 
mence of  its  passion,  the  force  and  delicacy  of  many  of  its 
thoughts,  and  that  inexpressible  charm  which  is  mingled 
even  with  its  faults,  have  obtained  for  it  high  rank  amongst 
French  poems  of  its  class.     If  its  author  does  not  owe  all 
his  reputation  to  his  merit,  neither  does  he  owe  it  all  to 
fortune.     Nature  has  been  sufficiently  bountiful  to  him  to 
excuse  fortune  for  being  prodigal."     So  moderate  a  judg- 
ment, of  course,  satisfied  neither  author  nor  critic.    Scuderi, 
indeed,  affected  to  thank  the  Academy,  but  the  affectation 
was  evident.     Comeille  did  not  attempt  to  conceal  his  dis- 
satisfaction.    Whilst  the  Academy  had  been  deliberating, 
the  controversy  had  spread.     Pamphlets  had  come  from 
the  press  in  a  shower.     Under  such  circumstances,  the 
great  dramatist  altered  his  views.     Instead   of  standing 
coldly  aloof,  he  sought  the  opportunity  of  defending  his  ofti.econtro- 
work   in  person   before   his  judges,  and  resented  its   re-  ^^^^' 
fusal.     He  then  carried  De  Castro's  play,  with  his  own 
hands,  to  the  Cardinal,  that  he  might  convince  himself  how 


UO    CORNEILLE'S  ANIMOSITY  TOWARDS  RICHELIEU, 

small  were  the  obligations  of  the  French  Cid  to  the  Spanish 
one.  When  the  Sentimejits  appeared  he  left  Paris,  and  for 
a  time  ceased  to  write.  In  January,  1639,  Chapelain  tells 
Balzac  that  "  Scuderi  has  at  least  gained  thus  much  by  the 
quarrel,  that  Coraeille  has  taken  a  disgust  at  his  art.  His 
vein  seems  to  be  exhausted.  I  have  tried  as  much  as  I 
could  to  excite  him  to  avenge  himself,  both  on  Scuderi  and 
on  his  protectress,  by  creating  some  new  Cid,  which  shall 
again  win  universal  praises,  and  prove  that  beauty  may  be 
independent  of  art ;  but  I  cannot  succeed.  He  talks  only 
of  rules,  and  of  the  answers  he  could  have  made  to  the 
Academicians,  if  he  had  not  been  afraid  of  offending  the 
authorities  {les  puissances).  He  even  puts  Aristotle 
amongst  the  apocryphal  authors,  when  he  cannot  adapt 
him  to  his  own  views."  But  the  depression  was  only  tem- 
porary. And  if  Boileau  sought  antithetical  point  rather 
than  plain  truth,  when  he  said — 

"  Au  Cid  persecute,  Cinna  doit  sa  naissance," 

it  is  at  least  probable  that  the  time  of  rest,  like  the  time 
of  adversity,  had  its  sweet  uses.  Comeille,  however, 
never  forgot  the  mortifications  which  this  controversy  had 
brought  upon  him.  He  never  forgave  Richelieu  for  the 
share  he  had  taken  in  it.  The  Cardinal  had  liberally  be- 
friended him.  He  had  removed  the  obstacles  which 
impeded  Corneille's  marriage.  He  had  accorded  letters- 
patent  of  nobility  to  the  poet's  father.  Trivial  as  such  a 
grant  looks  beside  the  trophies  which  Comeille  has  won 
by  his  own  intellect,  there  is  evidence  that  by  himself  it 
had  been  highly  prized.  So  little  did  it  appear  to  the 
poet's  friends  that  he  had  real  cause  of  complaint  against 
the  Cardinal,  that,  when  Richelieu  died,  we  find  one  of 
them,  Sarrau,    expressing  his  hope  that  Comeille  would 


AND  ITS  PUBLIC  EXPRESSION.  21 

testify  his  regret  by  writing  something  that  should  be 
worthy  both  of  the  author  and  the  subject ;  and  adding, 
"  Many  will  have  cause  to  regret  him,  but  none  more  than 
you.  Had  he  lived  longer  he  would  have  crowned  you 
with  the  wreath  of  Apollo.  You  have  lost  an  illustrious 
eulogist  of  your  works,  although,  in  truth,  you  stand  in  no 
need  of  eulogy,"  &c.*  The  author  of  The  Cid  felt  little 
inclination  to  undertake  the  task  which  his  correspondent 
pressed  upon  him.  His  momentary  feelings  dictated  the 
verses : — 

"  Qu'on  parle  mal  ou  bien  du  fameux  Cardinal, 
Ma  prose  ni  mes  vers  n'en  diront  jamais  rien ; 
n  m'a  fait  trop  de  bien  pour  en  dii'e  du  mal, 
n  m'a  feit  trop  de  mal  pour  en  dii*e  du  bien  :" 

and  it  would  have  been  to  his  honour  if  his  latent  animo- 
sity had  never  led  him  to  forget  the  self-imposed  restraint. 
Scarcely  was  Lewis  XHI  dead,  when  his  resentment 
against  the  Cardinal  burst  forth  in  verse.  Describing  the 
reign  of  the  monarch — 

"  Dont  la  seule  bonte  deplut  aux  bona  Francois," 

he  proceeds  to  say  that,  by  his  bad  choice  of  a  Minister, 

"  L'ambition,  I'orgueil,  la  haine,  I'avarice, 
Armes  de  son  pouvoir,  nous  donnerent  des  lois." 

This  makes  a  sorry  contrast  with  the  dedicatory  epistle 
prefixed  to  Horace  three  years  earlier,  or  with  the  laudation 
contained  in  Comeille's  discourse  at  his  reception  into  the 
Academy,  four  years  later. 

*  Claudii  Sarravii  Epistolce,  Ep.  49  (Araus.  1654,  pp.  65,  66). 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE       EARLY      ELECTIONS      AND       EXCLUSIONS. PATRU. 

BOSSUET. MANAGE. RACINE. THE      BATTLE     OP      THE 

ANCIENTS  AND    THE    MODERNS. — THE  EXPULSION  OF  THE 

ABB6  DE    SAINT   PIERRE. THE    ACADEMIC    IMPEDIMENTS 

AND    ULTIMATE    TRIUMPHS    OF    MONTESQUIEU    AND   VOL- 
TAIRE. 

With  increased  numbers  came  ceremony  and  routine. 

The  first  Academician  who  addressed  a  formal  speech  of 

thanks  to  his  colleagues,  on   his   reception,  was  Olivier 

Patru,  who  succeeded  Porcheres  d'Arbaud,  in  1640.     The 

Tiie  rocep-  coniplimcnt  pleased,  and  became  a  practice.     For  several 

tion  speech  of  .  .  -i  •      i  i  i 

Olivier  Patru.  jcars,  thcsc  speeches  were  little  more  than  common-place 

compliments,  sometimes  hyperbolical,  but  usually  having  at 

least  the  merit  of  brevity.     Everybody  came  in  for  his 

modicum  of  praise.     Patru  himself,  practised  orator  and 

cool-headed  lawyer  as  he  was,  went  the  length  of  assuring 

his  colleagues  that  "  it  is  enough  for  one  age  to  have  seen 

forty  pei*sons  of  such  eminent  merit  and  virtue.     So  great 

an  effort  must  needs  have  exhausted  Nature."     Patru  had 

been  elected  at  the  cost  of  the  Abbe  d'Aubignac,  who  had 

eagerly  sought  admission.     D'Aubignac  avenged  himself 

The  abor-  by  Tcpeatcd  endeavours  to  obtain  a  charter  from  the  King 

to  create  a  for  thc  establishment  of  a  second   Academy.     Far  from 

demy.     "  sharing  Patru's  admiring  conviction  that  Nature  must  needs 


EAELY  ELECTIONS  INTO  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY.     23 

have  exhausted  her  powers  in  giving  birth  to  the  existing 
forty,  he  assures  the  King  that  Paris  can  boast  a  thousand 
such,  and  that  the  "  kingdom  at  large  could  raise  an  army 
of  them/'  But  in  vain  did  he  seek  to  draw  His  Majesty's 
attention  to  the  fact  that  already  he  himself,  and  certain  of 
his  friends,  had  "  carried  on  their  conferences  for  two  years, 
in  mutual  communication  of  their  studies,"  and  that  with- 
out going  so  far  as  to  allege  that  these  conferences  included 
men  as  nobly  impassioned  for  good  letters  as  any  in  the 
kingdom,  they  might,  at  least,  assert  themselves  to  be  not 
unworthy  cadets  of  the  French  Academy.*  D'Aubignac's 
^'Academie  des  belles  lettres,"  so  it  was  called,  had  to  be 
content  with  its  weekly  meeting  in  the  Abbe's  lodgings, 
and  with  a  public  assembly  once  a  month  at  the  Hotel 
Matignon. 

The  pre-eminence  in  hyperbolical  flattery — one  episcopal     scuderi* 
example,  which  will  claim  notice  presently,  excepted — was  0?'°'°°     "^ 

.  .  Academic  ^t- 

attamed  by  Scuderi,  whom  the  Academy  elected  not  long  nius. 
after  its  reception  of  the  poet  who  had  conferred  on  him  an 
immortality  so  different  from  that  which  had  dazzled  his 
imagination.  He  began  his  speech  thus : — "  He,  gentle- 
men, who  conceived  that  the  Roman  Senate  was  composed 
entirely  of  kings,  would  doubtless  have  taken  you  for  gods, 
having  regard  to  the  sublimity  of  your  minds  and  the  im- 
mortality of  your  works."  When  he  came  to  eulogize 
Richelieu,  he  assured  his  auditors  that  **  to  speak  of  things 
simply  as  they  are,  all  the  figures  of  arithmetic  are  insufficient 
to  express  his  greatness."  But  this  did  not  satisfy  him. 
After  he  had  already  sent  his  intended  speech  to  the  Secre- 
tary (in  accordance  with  the  rules),  he  wrote  to  request  the 
insertion  of  an  additional  sentence  to  this  effect : — **  The 

*  Discours  au  Boy  sur  VEstahlissemeni  d'une  seconde  Academie  dans  la 
Ville  de  Paris,  par  Messire  Hedelin,  Abbe  d'Aubignac. 


24  BOSSUET'S  ADDRESS  IN  1671. 

Academy  may  justly  designate  itself  porphyrogenetic,  since 
it  was  born  in  the  purple  of  Cardinals,  of  Kings,  and  of 
Chancellors."     Conrart's  modesty,  or  his  good  nature,  for- 
bade him  to  comply  with  the  request,  so  that  the  new 
member's  discourse  was  shorn  of  part  of  its  brilliancy. 
Tiie  address       Thc  custom  of  a  formal  reply  on  behalf  of  the  Academy 
his  recepuon  to  thc  specch  of  thc  Academiciau-elcct  does  not  appear  to 
'  have  been  established  until  the  reception  of  Bossuet,  in  1 67 1 . 

That  prelate's  speech  is  one  of  the  first  in  which  a  specific 
subject  is  expressly  though  (in  his  case,)  briefly  treated. 
Taking  for  his  theme  the  French  language,  its  rapid  variation, 
its  capabilities,  the  means  of  developing  and  systematizing  it, 
and  the  duties  in  that  direction  imposed  on  the  Academy, 
the  discourse  itself  became  an  illustration  of  its  own  argu- 
ment.    Charpentier,  in  replying  for  the  Academy,  dwelt 
on  another  theme,  in  a  way  which  contrasts  piquantly  with 
the  ordinary  tenor  of  the  Academical  discourses  of  the  first 
thirty  years.      "  There  prevails,"  he  said,  **  in  the  great 
world,  I  know  not  what  contagion  of  display  and  pride 
which  is  strangely  antagonistic  to  the  meekness  of  philo- 
sophy. .  .  .  The  court  has  its  populace  as  well  as  the  town. 
The  purple  sometimes  covers  mediocre  or  even  base  souls. 
The  personal  merit  which  finds  its  reward  within  ...  is 
something  higher  than  grandeur  or  wealth."     But  the  gay 
audience,  which  for  almost  two  centuries  has  been  accus- 
tomed to  set  in  so  brilliant  a  frame  the  sombre  business  of 
an  academical  reception,  was  not  yet  present  to  profit  by 
the  lay  sermon  of  M.  Charpentier.     It  was  preached  only 
to  his  colleagues. 

At  this  time,  the  Academy  still  met  in  the  Hotel  Seguier. 
Charles  Pen-ault,  whose  admission  followed  that  of  Bossuet, 
originated  the  proposition  that  the  reception  should  be 
public.     It  was  also  at  his  suggestion  that  a  double  scrutiny 


MENAGE  AND  QUEEN  CHRISTINA.  25 

— ^first  by  names  written  on  slips,  and  then  by  the  usual 
black  and  white  balls — was  substituted  for  simple  ballot, 
in  the  elections.  The  Academy  received  in  1672  a  royal 
grant  of  apartments  in  the  Louvre  ;  and  it  was  there 
that  the  first  public  reception — that  of  Flechier — was  held, 
in  the  following  year. 

Thus  far,  the  choice  of  new  members  had  been  made    Thereject- 

.,,.,,.  .  ,,  ed  candidates 

from  time  to  time  with  little  dissension  or  scandal.  The  -Manage 
most  conspicuous  of  the  unsuccessful  candidates  was  "christoaT 
Menage.  When  Christina  of  Sweden  visited  the  Academy  j;^^'?  about 
in  1658,  her  first  question  was,  "Why  is  M.  Menage  not 
here?"  To  which  Boisrobert  replied  that  certainly  his 
literary  merits  entitled  him  to  a  seat,  but  that  his  conduct 
had  made  him  unworthy  of  it.  Perhaps,  both  his  good  and 
his  bad  qualities  would  have  rendered  him  a  troublesome 
member.  His  easy  disposition  made  him,  like  Chapelain, 
a  man  of  many  friends,  and  his  quick  resentments,  a  man 
of  many  quarrels.  When  Christina  herself  had  given  him 
permission  to  introduce  to  her  any  "  men  of  merit  "  of  his 
acquaintance,  her  audience-chamber  became  so  thronged 
that  she  exclaimed,  "  This  M.  Menage  must  know  a  mar- 
vellous number  of  people  of  merit."  His  Requete  des 
Didionnaires  bitterly  offended  many  of  the  Academicians. 
Habert  de  Montmor  tried  to  persuade  his  colleagues  that 
the  very  assault  was  a  reason  for  admission — "on  the 
principle  which  disposes  people  to  compel  a  rake  to  marry 
the  girl  whose  fair  fame  has  suffered  from  him."  Long 
afterwards,  when  Menage  was  drawing  near  his  end,  it  was 
intimated  to  him  that  opposition  had  ceased,  and  that  a 
new  candidature  would  be  successful.  "No,"  said  he,  "it 
would  now  be  a  marriage  in  ecctremis,  little  to  the  credit 
of  either  of  us." 


26  WAR  OF  ANCIENTS  AND  MODERNS. 

The  first  occasion  on  which  the  new  member  undertook 
that  review  of  the  career  and  productions  of  his  immediate 
predecessor  which  has  become  so  characteristic  a  featiu-e  of 
the  receptions,  was  a  notable  one.  Racine  presided  at  the 
admission  (January,  1695)  of  two  Academicians — Bergeret, 
in  the  place  of  Cordemoy ;  and  Thomas  Comeille,  in  the 
place  of  Pierre  Comeille.  Bergeret  gave  a  brief  account  of 
the  works  and  character  of  the  Academician  whose  place 
he  was  called  to  fill.  Thomas  Comeille  restricted  himself, 
on  this  head,  to  the  few  and  simple  words  which  became 
so  near  a  relative.  The  speech  of  the  day  was  that  of 
Racine.  Rising  beyond  the  sphere  of  that  petty  malice 
which  had  tried  to  make  praises  of  Comeille  turn  to  his  own 
disparagement,  and  anticipating  comparisons  between 
"  ancients  and  moderns  "  which  were  about  to  become  a 
war-cry  among  the  writers  and  critics  of  France,  and  to 
raise  its  echo  amongst  ourselves,  he  claimed  for  Comeille 
an  equal  rank  with  iEschylus  and  Sophocles  ;  and  he 
bore  his  testimony  to  that  modesty  of  demeanour  towards 
his  colleagues  which  made  the  author  of  Cinna  "  leave  his 
laurels  at  the  Academy's  door,''  and  take  an  unobtnisive 
share  in  the  debates,  even  when  they  turned  on  dramatic 
questions. 
The  war  of      Thc  literary  strife  which  led  to  the  production  of  the 

the  AucicBts     ^„»,,  .  »i^t  i- 

and  the  FaraUele  des  Anciens  et  des  Modernes  and  its  tnbe  of 
followers,  seems  to  have  had  its  origin  in  an  Academic 
discussion  between  Racine  and  Perrault,  some  two  years 
after  the  reception  of  Thomas  Comeille — ^in  which,  as  we 
have  seen,  Racine  himself  had  no  hesitation  to  place  a  con- 
temporary on  a  level  with  the  tragic  poets  of  Greece.  He 
now  ironically  complimented  Perrault  on  the  ingenuity 
with  which  in  his  Steele  de  Louis  XIV  he  had  sought  to 
raise  above  the  ancients  contemporaries  of  a  calibre  quite 


Moderns. 


PEREAULT  AND  BOILEAU.  27 

unlike  that  of  Corneille,  and  he  coupled  with  the  compli- 
ment a  remark  that  it  was  not  likely  that  the  paradox 
would  deceive  anybody.  Perrault  was  piqued  into  an 
elaborate  exaggeration  of  his  flattering  estimate  of  the 
writers  of  the  day,  the  best  of  whom,  after  all,  he  was  least 
able  to  appreciate.  Thus  it  happened  that  a  contest,  tri- 
vial in  itself,  was  entered  upon  at  a  needless  disadvantage. 
To  institute  a  comparison  between  the  greatest  writers  of 
all  antiquity,  and  the  Chapelains,  the  Scuderis,  and  the 
Saint  Amants,  of  the  seventeenth  century,  was  so  ludicrous 
that  ere  long  Fontenelle,  the  only  man  of  eminence  who 
had  supported  Perrault,  made  his  escape.  "  I,"  said  he, 
"  do  not  belong  to  the  party  which  claims  me  for  its  chief." 
The  brunt  of  the  battle  lay  between  Perrault  and  Boi- 
leau.  But  La  Bruyere  dealt  a  few  vigorous  strokes  for  the 
honour  of  the  ancients,  and  it  chanced  that  he  was  elected 
an  Academician  whilst  the  paper  war  was  still  raging.  In  Perranit  and 
his  address  he  drew  some  neat  comparisons  between  men 
in  whom  the  Academy  had  real  cause  to  glory,  and  certain 
of  the  Roman  poets,  but  pushed  the  question  no  further. 
Charpentier  replied,  and  took  occasion  to  extend  the 
ground,  and  to  give  it  anything  rather  than  a  literary  turn  : — 
"  Not  to  speak  of  the  thousand  admirable  inventions  which 
have  been  discovered  within  the  last  two  hundred  years," 
"  let  us  look,"  he  said,  "  at  the  things  which  lie  at  this 
moment  before  our  eyes.  This  magnificent  building  of 
T/ie  Louvre — is  it  not  as  fine  as  the  most  superb  edifice  of 
the  ancients  ?  Is  not  the  art  of  war  as  well  imderstood 
now  as  then  ?  Are  the  sieges  of  Luxembourg,  of  Mons, 
and  Namur,  less  remarkable  than  those  of  Tyre,  Saguntum, 
or  Carthage?  And,  as  to  eloquence,  if  its  object  be  to 
please,  to  carry  the  mind  away  captive,  and  if  it  be  also 
true — as  we  know  by  daily  experience — that  our  orators 


28       THE  RECEPTION  OF  BISHOP  DE  CLERMONT 

do  really  attain  those  ends,  it  is  useless  to  question  whether 
or  not  they  are  eloquent,  still  more  useless  to  dispute 
whether  their  eloquence  is  greater  or  less  than  that  of  the 
ancients.  For  my  part,  I  would  as  lief  ask  if  the  sea  is  as 
salt  now,  as  it  was  in  the  time  of  the  Roman  Republic." 

On  the  death  of  Perrault,  his  seat  was  sought  by  the 
Abbe  Chaulieu,  a  consummate  specimen  of  that  epicurean 
section  of  the  French  clergy  which  so  long  kept  its  ground 
beside  the  Fenelons  and  the  Bourdaloues,  redeeming  the 
time  not  abandoned  to  sloth  by  epigrams  and  anacreontic 
verses.  Some  of  the  shafts  of  Chaulieu's  wit  had  pierced 
Tourreil,  who,  when  the  vacancy  occurred,  happened  to  be 
Director.  He  resolved  to  defeat  his  assailant  by  assuring 
the  Academicians  that  the  President  de  Lamoignon  would 
feel  honoured  by  their  suffrages.  The  President  was 
elected,  but  he  disavowed  his  proposer,  and  declined  the 
seat.  The  Academy  then  made  a  bye-law  that  the  pre- 
liminary visits  of  a  candidate,  which,  theretofore,  had  been 
usual  but  not  obhgatory,  should  for  the  future  be  exacted. 
Armand  de  Rohan,  Prince  Bishop  of  Strasburg,  was  elected 
in  Pcrrault's  stead. 

Few  of  the  gaudy  days  of  the  French  Academy  have 
offered  a  more  attractive  entertainment  to  the  Parisian 
loungers  than  did  the  reception,  in  1694,  of  Fran9ois  de 
Clermont  Tonnerre,  Bishop  of  Noyon,  the  prelate  of  whose 
excessive  vanity  Saint  Simon  has  given  us  so  curious  a 
The  reccp-  picturc.  Elcctcd  partly  as  one  of  those  decorative  members 
ofThecourtiy  who  scrvcd  to  link  the  Academy  with  the  Court,  and 
partly,  it  is  to  be  feared,  by  way  of  malicious  sport,  he 
determined  to  do  honour  to  the  occasion  by  a  most  elabo- 
rate discourse,  which  bristles  with  the  great  names  of 
universal  history.  Moses  and  Constantine,  Tertullian  and 
Solomon,   Alexander  the    Great  and   St.   Ambrose,    arc 


Bisliop        of 
>oyon 


TONNEKRE  INTO  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY.        29 

mixed  pell-mell  in  an  oration  which  is  doubtless  unique. 
After  exhausting  eulogy  in  praise  of  "  Lewis,  so  amiable 
for  the  charms  of  his  person,"  and  of  "  Lewis,  so  admirable 
for  the  greatness  of  his  reign,"  he  implored  his  colleagues 
"  not  to  wonder  at  the  zeal  of  this  discourse.  Every  phrase 
is  a  tongue  of  flame;  mouth  and  heart  are  in  unison.  And 
it  would  be  easy  to  justify  them  by  the  example  of  Gregoiy 
Nazianzen,  insatiable  in  the  praises  of  St.  Basil  the 
Great."  The  reply  of  the  Abbe  de  Caumartin  was  a 
masterpiece  of  dexterous  satire,  each  shaft  of  which  took 
eficct  on  every  auditor  save  one.  The  poor  bishop,  however, 
listened,  without  a  moment's  misgiving,  to  the  assurance 
that  "  whilst  the  church  sees  in  your  episcopal  charges 
sound  doctrine  and  pure  morality,  we  Academicians  see, 
also,  elegant  allusions,  well-sustained  allegories,  and  a 
methodic  arrangement,  not  elsewhere  to  be  found,  without 
which  it  would  be  difficult  to  follow  ideas  so  magnificent 
as  yours."  The  good-hearted  prelate,  it  is  said,  had  no 
conception  of  the  emotions  which  must  have  so  severely 
tested  the  polished  demeanour  of  that  gay  assembly,  until 
he  found,  a  day  or  two  afterwards,  that  his  reception  had 
become  the  table-talk  of  the  town.  Even  then,  his  anger 
was  but  momentary.  He  was  as  proud  as  ever  of  his 
Academical  dignity,  and  even  sought  opportunities  to  pro- 
mote the  interests  of  his  colleagues. 

At  this  period,  the  Academicians  whose  careers,  however 
distinguished,  were  not  literary,  and  the  merely  court- 
members,  had  become  so  numerous  as  to  induce  dissatisfac- 
tion among  some  of  the  workers.  D'Olivet,  the  second  of 
the  Academy's  historians,  assigns,  as  one  of  his  reasons  for 
refusing  to  comply  with  the  request  that  he  would  carry 
his  narrative  beyond  1699,  the  fact  that  "the  number  of 
noblemen  and  prelates  has  increased  in  our  society.     Now, 


out. 


30  THE  NAMES  THAT  ARE  WANTING 

with  a  few  exceptions,  there  is  no  pleasure  in  writing  about 
them.  One  is  sure  to  offend  their  families  unless  one 
narrates  everything  they  did,  however  little  connected  with 
Academical  pursuits."  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  just  to 
bear  in  mind  that  certain  really  great  names  of  the  period 
we  have  been  glancing  at — names  whose  absence  from  the 
roll  is  now  so  saHent — rarely,  if  ever,  indicate  exclusions  in 
The  men  favour  of  courticrs,  soldiers,  or  prelates.  One  of  the 
«  owere  ep  ^^.jjjj^^jjjy'g  fules,  cstablishcd  not  veiy  long  after  the  founda- 
tion— and,  whether  wise  or  unwise,  certainly  not  personal — 
made  residence  near  Paris  a  necessary  qualification.  Des- 
cartes, Rotrou,  Regnard,  were  usually  remote  from  the 
capital,  and  thus  by  rule  ineligible.     Antoine  Aruauld — 

"  Le  plus  sarant  mortel  qui  jamais  ait  6crit," — 

is  said  to  have  refused  a  seat,  after  it  had  been  proflfered  to 
him.  La  Rochefoucauld  also  stood  aloof  by  choice.  The 
exclusion  of  Pascal,  Malebranche,  and  MoUere  depended 
on  other  powers,  royal  or  social,  not  on  the  Academy.  Had 
Richelieu  lived  a  httle  longer,  it  is  probable  that  one  social 
disqualification,  at  all  events,  would  have  been  removed. 
But  of  all  the  men  thus  excluded,  the  Academy  might 
have  said,  as  it  actually  said  of  one  of  them  on  a  memorable 
occasion : — 

"  Rien  ne  manque  a  leur  gloire ;  ils  manquaient  k  la  notre," 

Other  men  of  humbler  rank  in  the  literary  hierarchy,  but 
superior  in  point  of  talent  to  many  Academicians,  have 
been  excluded,  sometimes  by  considerations — irrespective 
of  talent — which  no  Society  has  the  right  to  overlook,  as 
in  the  instance  of  Dufresnoy ;  sometimes  by  the  combina- 
tion of  imprudence  with  misrepresentation,  such  as  time 
only  could  fully  dispel,  as  in  that  of  Jean  Baptiste  Rousseau. 
The  case  last  named  is  a  notable  one.     Those  bitterly 


exclusion. 


IN  THE  EOLL  OF  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY.   31 

satirical  couplets  which  Rousseau  had  so  recklessly  flung  Jean  Bapt. 
about  him  in  his  youth  were  surreptitiously  collected  and  reason  of  ms 
reprinted  when  their  author  sought  a  seat  in  the  Academy. 
The  anonymous  collector  was  base  enough  to  forge  addi- 
tional verses,  still  more  ofi'ensive  than  the  real  ones,  and 
such  as  were  sure  to  increase  animosity  in  quarters  where 
the  poet  had  most  cause  to  dread  it.  Discovering  that  a 
certain  Academician  had  helped  to  circulate  these  verses, 
he  rashly  charged  him  with  the  forgery,  in  the  absence  of 
all  evidence.  The  controversy  became  envenomed,  and 
eventually  Rousseau  found  himself  condemned  by  a  decree 
of  Parliament  to  perpetual  exile.  This  was  in  April,  1712. 
Four  years  afterwards,  letters  of  recall  were  obtained,  but 
he  refused  to  avail  himself  of  them,  insisting  on  his  right 
to  a  full  acquittal.  Twenty-two  years  more  were  passed 
in  irksome  banishment,  sometimes  at  Brussels,  sometimes 
in  other  parts  of  the  Netherlands.  His  exile  was  occa- 
sionally— but  not  always  happily — enhvened  by  visits  from 
comrades  in  literature.  At  one  such  visit,  Rousseau  read 
to  Voltaire  his  Ode  to  Posterity.  "  I  am  afraid,  my  friend," 
observed  his  caustic  auditor,  *'  that  that  letter  will  never 
reach  its  address."  At  length,  Rousseau  sought,  but  with- 
out success,  to  obtain  the  favour  he  had  formerly  refused. 
He  ventured  to  visit  Paris,  furtively,  and  then  returned  to 
Brussels  to  die. 

It  would  be  easy  to  point  to  other  cases  in  which  candi- 
dates were  opposed  from  discreditable  motives ;  sometimes 
from  petty  jealousies  and  personal  dislikes  ;  at  other  times 
from  that  spirit  of  coterie  which  is  the  especial  bane  of 
corporations,  whether  learned  or  unlearned.  Any  impartial 
survey,  however,  of  the  history  of  the  French  Academy 
must,  I  think,  result  in  the  conviction  that  the  exercise  of 


32  THE  CHAKACTER  AND  THE  EXCLUSION 

the  power  it  has  really  possessed  has,  in  the  main,  been  in- 
dependent and  honourable.  The  war  between  the  privileged 
few  within,  and  the  wits  without,  is  too  amusing  a  resource 
to  be  suffered  to  die  for  want  of  ammunition.  But  the 
most  satirical  of  the  lampooners,  on  the  wrong  side  of  the 
door,  have  sometimes  lived  long  enough  to  become  lam- 
pooned Academicians,  seated  on  comfortable  cushions,  in 
their  turn.  The  cool  sagacity  which  prompted  Fontenelle 
— "  his  heart  all  brains,  like  his  head  " — to  address  to  the 
Academy,  after  five  defeats,  a  polished  Discourse  on  Patience , 
is  not  vouchsafed  to  every  man. 

Thecharac  ^fj^g  worst  blot  ou  thc  Acadcmy's  escutcheon  is  its  ex- 
jtris.  and  ti,c  pulslou  of  thc  Abbc  de  Saint  Pierre.  That  was  a  dastardly, 
irace  "of  si"  but,  happily  for  its  fame,  an  exceptional  deed.  As  an 
I'itrrc.  Academician,  Saint  Pierre  had  distinguished  hin\gelf  by 
his  zealous  exertions  to  make  the  society  both  more  power- 
ful and  more  useful.  He  strove  to  obtain  the  substitution, 
on  its  public  days,  of  appreciations  of  the  lives  and  works 
of  the  great  men  of  France,  for  insipid  disquisitions  on 
"  the  inconveniences  of  wealth,"  or  "  the  advantages  of  a 
good  reputation."  Remembering  what  sort  of  reading  had 
first  stirred  his  own  youthful  pulses  to  a  lofty  and  pure 
ambition,  he  was  eager  to  make  the  recollection  fruitfid 
for  the  youth  to  come.  He  also  strove  for  a  re- modelling 
of  the  Academy,  with  a  view  to  systematic  division  of 
labour,  which,  in  some  respects,  anticipated  part  of  Napo- 
leon's ultimate  organization  of  the  Institute.  Saint  Pierre's 
whole  life,  indeed,  was  an  anticipation.  The  Cardinals 
Dubois,  and  the  Regent  Dukes  of  that  day,  might  very 
naturally  call  his  projects  of  political  and  social  reform 
"  a  good  man's  dreams,"  but  he  himself  might  have  said, 
with  Schiller's  Marquis  Posa — 


THE  PARASITES  IN  THE  FEENCH  ACADEMY.     33 

"  Das  Jahrhundert 
1st  meinem  Ideal  nicht  reif.    Ich  lebe 
Ein  Burger  derer  welche  kommen  werden." 

Saint  Pierre's  offence  consisted  in  an  honest  and  out- 
spoken condemnation  of  some  of  the  base  acts  of  the 
Government  of  Lewis  XIV,  and  especially  in  his  strong 
censure  of  that  adulation  of  the  King  himself,  which  found 
almost  daily  expression  in  the  epithet  "  Lewis  the  Great." 
In  a  certain  Discours  sur  la  Polysynodie,  he  had  taken 
occasion  to  say,  in  words  which  deserve  to  be  remembered, 
*'  We  may  well  call  him  *  Lewis  the  Powerftd,'  or,  *  Lewis 
the  Terrible,'  for  none  of  his  predecessors  was  so  powerful ; 
none  made  himself  so  terrible.  But  those  who  possess 
even  moderate  discrimination  will  never  call  him  '  Lewis 
the  Great ;'  will  never  confound  power  with  true  greatness. 
For  great  power,  unless  it  has  been  employed  in  procuring 
great  benefits  for  mankind  in  general,  and  for  its  subjects 
and  neighbours  in  particular,  will  never  make  a  man  esti- 
mable. In  a  word,  great  power  alone  will  never  make  a 
great  man." 

The  attack  upon  Saint  Pierre  was  led  by  the  Cardinal 
de  Pohgnac.  At  that  time,  courtiers  and  prelates  were  in 
unusual  force  in  the  Academy.  The  sitting  (April,  1718) 
was  a  very  stormy  one.  Another  Cardinal  (Fleury,  then 
Chancellor  of  the  Academy)  strongly  condemned  the  in- 
criminated passages,  and  artfully  contrived  to  give  a  sort 
of  complexion  of  generosity  to  the  proposed  censure,  by 
reminding  the  Academicians  that  the  monarch  whose  fame 
had  been  assailed  by  their  fellow-member  was  dead,  and  a 
benefactor.  Should  it  be  said  of  them  that  they  were  so 
venal,  so  wholly  given  up  to  selfish  interests,  that  their 
eulogies  lasted  exactly  as  long  as  their  patron  was  living 
and  powerful  ?     Then,  and  afterwards.  Saint  Pierre  vainly 

:3 


3t  THE   EXPULSION  OP  ST.  PIERRE. 

tried  to  be  heard  in  his  defence.  He  was  expelled.  His 
place  was  not  filled  up.  On  his  death,  he  was  allowed  a 
funeral  service,  but  was  refused  the  customary  biographical 
honours  at  tlie  reception  of  his  successor.  Not  until  1775 
was  this  additional  stigma  on  the  Academy  removed.  But 
no  occasion  could  have  been  more  fitting  for  the  rehabili- 
tation of  Saint  Pierre's  memory  than  was  the  reception  of 
Malesherbes. 

Saint  Pierre's  expulsion  may  be  regarded  as  the  first  of 
a  long  series  of  incidents  in  the  quarrel  of  "  philosophers" 
and  "anti-philosophers/'  in  which  the  Academic  strife  did 
but  reflect  what  was  passing  in  other  and  larger  spheres  of 
French  life,  and  is  therefore  veiy  interesting  to  students  of 
history,  but  most  of  which  must  here  be  passed  ovef  in 
silence.  The  contests,  however,  about  the  election,  first 
of  Montesquieu,  and  afterwards  of  Voltaire,  claim  some 
notice. 

Montesquieu  offered  himself  as  candidate  for  a  seat 
which  was  vacated  in  1727.  In  the  Leff res  Fersanes  he 
had  criticised  the  reign  of  Levris  XIV  with  a  severity  far 
keener  than  Saint  Pierre's.  But  it  was  easier  to  suppress, 
for  the  time,  a  score  of  such  men  as  the  amiable  author  of 
the  Discours  sur  la  Polysynodie,  than  to  cope  with  one 
Montesquieu.  The  groat  thinker  who  was  to  open  the  way 
for  such  momentous  changes  in  the  social  polity  of  France, 
was  also  the  pet  author  of  his  day.  Everybody  read  and 
quoted  him.  The  booksellers  ran  about  imploring  all  their 
acquaintances  to  write  them  some  Lettres  Persnnes^  as 
though  to  write  Lettres  Persanes  had  been  as  easy  as  to 
sell  them.  Unhappily,  there  were  in  this  famous  book 
some  sarcasms  on  religion  which  the  author's  own  later  and 
better  thoughts  condemned.  His  enemies  were  quick  to 
seize  their  advantage.    The  Academy  was  officially  informed 


MONTESQUIEU  AND  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY.     35 

that  the  King  would  not  confirm  its  choice,  should  that 
choice  fall  on  the  author  of  the  incriminated  book.  Mon- 
tesquieu resented  this  interference  by  declaring  that,  if  the 
threatened  prohibition  were  enforced,  he  would  seek  in  a 
foreign  land  the  protection  and  the  honours  denied  him 
in  his  own.  Another  step  which  he  is  said  to  have 
taken,  in  this  conjuncture,  has  been  very  differently  de- 
scribed. 

According  to  Voltaire^s  version  of  the  affair,  Montesquieu 
caused  his  book  to  be  rapidly  reprinted,  with  the  omission 
of  the  obnoxious  passages,  and  without  any  mention  of  the 
alterations  he  had  made.  He  then  in  person  carried  the 
book  to  the  Minister.  D'Alembert  repeats  this  account, 
substantially,  but  asserts  that  the  passages  suppressed  were 
really  spurious.  Another  contemporary  writer  names  two 
persons  who  shared,  he  says,  in  the  authorship  of  the  book, 
in  its  original  and  anonymous  form.  But  he  throws  no 
spark  of  light  on  the  then  curious  phenomenon  that  the 
work  of  three  authors  should  bear,  so  strikingly,  the  im- 
press of  one  mind.  Montesquieu's  more  recent  biogra- 
phers, on  the  other  hand,  deny  the  story  altogether. 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  precise  incidents,  it  is  certain 
that  there  are  portions  of  the  Persian  Letters  which  their 
author,  himself,  condemned,  as  his  mere  juvenilia,  and 
nobly  atoned  for  in  his  later  writings.  It  is  also  certain 
that  the  obstacle  to  his  election  was  removed  in  an  honour- 
able way.  The  man  who,  with  his  dying  breath,  said  in 
reference  to  this  very  book :  "I  will  yield  everything  to 
Religion,  but  nothing  to  the  Jesuits,"  was  not  the  man  to 
win  his  seat  in  the  Academy  by  a  mere  subterfuge. 

The  stnif- 

Voltaire,  in  his  turn,  had  to  fight  his  way.     He  offered  gie  and  uiti- 
himself  as  the  successor  of  Cardinal  de  Fleury.     At  first,  ofvoitaire. 


36        SCIOLISM  AND  CREDULITY  OF  VOLTAIRE. 

it  was  found  not  very  easy  to  obtain  a  presentable  opponent. 
But  Boyer,  Bishop  of  Mirepoix,  who  had  long  played  the 
part  of  Cerberus  at  the  Academy's  door,  was  indefatigable 
in  his  efforts.  Witticisms  rained  upon  him,  until  the  poor 
prelate  at  last  made  formal  complaint  to  the  king  that  "  M. 
de  Voltaire  made  him  pass  for  a  fool,  even  at  foreign 
courts,*'  and  had  to  put  up  with  a  new  sarcasm,  from  the 
royal  lips.  But  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  keeping  Voltaire 
out  until  1746. 

At  this  time,  Voltaire  had  not  yet  reached  those  final 
cross-roads  which  present  themselves,  alike  to  the  men  of 
books  and  to  the  men  of  action,  at  a  certain  stage  in  their 
career — when  the  upward  or  the  downward  course  comes 
to  be  fixed  for  ever.  He  had  already  published  La  Hen- 
riade — after  once  casting  it  into  the  fire,  in  his  hot  im- 
patience of  outspoken  ciiticism — together  with  Zaire^ 
Metope,  the  Lettres  Anglaises,  and  the  Vtede  Charles  XII. 
In  addition  to  his  marv^ellous  talent  and  versatility,  he  had 
displayed  only  too  nmch  of  his  thin  sciolism,  of  his  morbid 
vanity,  and  of  his  angry  "philosophy."  But  his  better 
Angel  had  not  yet  given  him  over  to  that  evil  genius  who 
was  soon  afterwards  to  inspire  the  wretched  sophistries, 
and  the  puerile  credulities,  of  the  Dictionnaire  Philoso- 
phique ;  the  scarcely  sane  egotism  of  the  Correspondance 
avec  d'Jlembert;  and  the  scarcely  human  crapulousness  of 
La  Pucelle.  The  man  whom  prelates  and  courtiers  were 
now  unscrupulously  opposing  had,  indeed,  already  exhibited 
the  shallowness  as  well  as  the  brilliancy  of  his  intellect. 
But  he  had  not  yet  openly  committed  himself  to  the  task 
of  overthrowing  Christianity,  by  dint  of  scurrilous  jests 
and  puny  diatribes.  He  was  already  a  profane  scoffer, 
and  a  sceptical  bigot.  He  was  not,  as  yet,  the  mere  Vitru- 
vius  of  ruin.     Only  at  a    somewhat  later  period  in  his 


VOLTAIRE  AND  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY.  37 

career  was  he,  in  the  happy  words  of  Byron,  to  multiply 
himself  among  mankind — 

"  The  Proteus  of  their  talents ;  whilst  his  own 
Breathed  most  in  ridicule ;  which,  as  the  wind, 
Blew  where  it  listed,  laying  aU  things  prone, 
Now  to  o'erthrow  a  fool,  and  now  to  shake  a  throne." 

When  he  presented  himself  at  the  Academy's  door,  he 
stood  on  ground  which  he  had  cultivated  usefully,  and  had 
fairly  made  his  own.  If  literary  ability  was  ever  to  win 
the  literary  laurel,  his  pretensions  were  just. 

In  Voltaire's  hands  the  customary  Academical  eulogies 
were  cut  short.  He  dwelt,  at  his  reception,  on  the  growth 
of  the  language  and  the  literature  of  Prance,  making  small 
account  of  all  writers  antecedent  to  Corneille.  Those  are 
not  truly  good  books,  he  said,  which  do  not  pass  the  fron- 
tiers. Before  Corneille,  the  only  author  who  had  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  few  foreigners  conversant  with  French 
was  Montaigne ;  and  long  after  Marot,  the  language,  even 
to  Frenchmen,  was  but  a  domestic  jargon,  enlivened  by  a 
few  pleasantries.  Corneille  was  the  first  to  make  it  re- 
spected abroad,  and  he  did  this  just  at  the  time  that 
Richelieu  was  beginning  to  win  respect  for  the  crown. 
Both,  together,  spread  the  fame  of  France  over  Europe. 
After  Corneille  come,  not  indeed  great  geniuses,  but  better 
writers. 


38  BUFFON  ON  STYLE. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BUFFON    AND    THE    COURTIER    PARADI8    DE    MONCRIF. — THE 
WAR  OF   ADMINISTRATORS    AND    ACADEMICIANS. — COURT 

DISGRACE    OF    THE    RHETORICIAN    THOMAS. CHAMFORT 

AND    MIRABEAU. THE    ACADEMY   DISSOLVED. 

Seven  years  later,  Buflfbn  followed  Voltaire's  lead 
by  an  address,  pithy  and  luminous,  on  ** style;"  which 
became  authoritative.  He  showed  what  should  be  the  aim 
of  an  ambitious  writer,  and  how  it  should  be  pursued.  He 
hit  blots  in  the  common  methods  of  education,  which  are 
neither  peculiar  to  France,  nor  defunct  with  the  eighteenth 
century.  A  tolerable  ear,  he  says,  suffices  for  the  avoid- 
ance of  dissonant  words ;  the  reading  of  poets  and  orators, 
for  a  mechanical  imitation  of  poetical  cadence,  or  of  rhe- 
Buffouon    torical   artifice.     But   imitation  is   never  creative.     Ideas 

literary  style.  .  .  i         i  i   i 

must  precede  sentences.  What  is  to  be  written  should  be 
jBrst  wrought  out  clearly  in  thought.  Everything  which  is 
merely  ornamental  and  redundant  should  be  looked  at  with 
distrust.  These  are  among  the  counsels  which  the  author 
of  the  Ilistoire  Naturelle  gives  to  those  who  seek  distinc- 
tion by  the  pen,  and  they  have  lost  nothing  in  point  or 
relevancy. 

It  chanced  that  the  courtier  Paradis  de  Moncrif  presided 
at  this  reception.  Of  him  it  was  said  that,  at  Versailles, 
he  was  a  devotee ;  at  Paris,  a  man  of  pleasure.  On  this 
occasion,  he  seems  to  have  brought  his  courtly  devotion  to 
town  with  him,  and  to  have  given  it  a  very  unseasonable 


THE  WAR  BETWEEN  PAST  AND  FUTURE.         39 

airing.     The  Doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  had  just  attacked 
both  Montes<juieu  and   BufFon,  and  the  attacks  had  re- 
coiled.    Moncrif   dragged    into  his    official  reply  a    very 
superfluous  eulogy  of  those  venerable  doctors.     There  was 
then  no  opportunity  of  rejoinder.     But,  immediately  after- 
wards, the  publication  of  a  new  volume  of  his  great  '«t>rk    Buiiimsre- 
enabled  Button  to  give  to  the  public — m  two  letters  writ-  couniy  pam- 
ten  by  the  Sorbonne  theologians  themselves — consummate  "**' 
examples  of  the  "  style  "  which  should  be  detested.     Mon- 
tesquieu, on  his  part,  in  the  Defense  de  V Esprit  des  Lois, 
gave  himself  the  satisfaction,  not  so  much  of  overthrowing 
his  assailants,    as  of   making    them    glide  softly  to    the 
ground,  amidst  the  laughter  of  the  bystanders. 

The  war  thus  so  repeatedly  forced  within  the  walls  of 
the  Academy  between  Past  and  Future — between  the  old 
generation,  so  reluctant  to  admit  that  one  phase,  at  least, 
of  its  work  is  over,  and  the  new  generation,  so  eager  to  con- 
found, in  undiscrimiuatmg  onslaught,  what  is  really  effete 
in  the  world  with  what  is  merely  diseased — was  diversified 
by  many  incidents,  often  ludicrous,  sometimes  tragic.     The     ^''■'">- 

....  "qui  ne  fuit 

inevitable  Mirepoix  brought  on  the  Academy  a  flood  of  rien." 
epigrams  (but  no  "  Discours  sur  la  Patience"),  by  his 
obstinate  hostility  to  the  election  of  Piron.  Epigrams  were 
lavished,  too,  on  one  of  the  new  members,  the  poor  Count  of 
Clermont,  resulting  in  the  violent  death  of  an  unlucky  epi- 
grammatist, and  in  the  verification  of  one  of  his  sarcasms*  in 
an  unexpected  fashion.     The  noble  Academician  never  again 

*  Trente-neuf  joints  a  zero, 
Si  j'entend  bien  mon  niunero, 
N'ont  jamais  pu  faire  quarante. 
D'ou  je  conclus,  troupe  savant e, 
Qu'ayant  a  vos  cotes  admis 
Clermont,  cette  masse  pesante, 
Ce  digne  cousin  de  Louis, 
La  place  est  encoi'e  vacante. 


on  Thomas. 


40       THE   MINISTERIAL  ATTACKS  ON  THOMAS. 

appeared  amongst  his  colleagues.  In  like  manner,  the 
notorious  Le  Franc  de  Pompignan— one  of  the  many 
assailants  of  the  "Philosophers"  who  entirely  failed  to 
fasten  on  those  amongst  their  characteristics  which  were 
most  reprehensible,  and  which  made  the  name  a  palpable 
misnomer — was  so  completely  immolated  with  the  meal 
and  salt  of  the  satirists,  that  he  forsook  Paris,  and  passed 
almost  a  quarter  of  a  century  in  seclusion.  Meanwhile, 
that  growing  influence  of  the  men  of  letters  on  Society 
which  every  passing  day  made  more  unmistakeably  evident, 
was  scornfully  ignored  by  the  ostensible  rulers  of  France. 
Its  very  mention  within  the  walls  of  a  literary  society  was 
treated  as  a  crime. 
The  minis-  Thomas,  a  man  of  real  ability,  but  whose  rhetoric  was 
and  ccMurcI  wout  to  ruu  away  with  his  discretion,  had  drawn  in  an 
Academical  oration  of  1767  a  highly-coloured  picture  of 
that  "  quiet  study  in  which  the  man  of  letters  sits,  meditat- 
ing, and  summons  before  him  Justice  and  Humanity,'* 
and  so  on.  Then,  that  magnification  of  the  literary  office 
was  thought  rather  ludicrous,  but  not  dangerous.  Three 
years  afterwards,  and  with  somewhat  better  taste,  he  pur- 
sued the  same  theme  in  an  "  Eloge  de  Marc  Aurele."  By 
the  public,  this  eulogy  was  rapturously  applauded ;  by  the 
Government,  it  was  instantly  suppressed.  A  few  days  later, 
when  officiating  as  president  at  the  reception  of  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Toulouse,  Thomas  dwelt,  with  all  his  force,  upon 
the  reciprocal  duties  of  thinkers  and  of  statesmen,  and  upon 
the  necessity  of  harmonising  action  with  opinion.  This  time, 
the  MS.  was  seized,  and  the  orator  silenced.  He  was 
forbidden  to  speak  in  the  Academy,  and  was  threatened 
with  severer  penalties  if  any  portion  of  that  discourse  should 
appear  in  print  or  be  circulated  in  manuscript.  But  such 
topics  continued  to  be  treated  by  other  minds,  and  to  be 


Fenelon. 


THE  CENSOESHIP  IN  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY.     41 

encountered  by  like  repression.  This  persistent  attempt  to 
crush  efiPects  by  the  easy  process  of  ignoring  causes,  receives 
curious  illustration  when  we  find  the  great  literary  news- 
writer  of  the  day,  after  narrating  these  occurrences,  asking 
— not  in  irony,  but  in  grave  sincerity — "How  is  it  possible 
that  men  of  letters  can  be  seditious,  when  they  are  never 
permitted  to  meddle  with  public  affairs  ?  In  what  country, 
in  what  age,  has  literature  ever  been  regarded  as  a  social 
function  ?"* 

In  the  course  of  this  conflict,  the  old  Censorship  of 
essays  was  re-established.  On  one  occasion,  the  censors 
cut  out  a  passage,  condemnatory  of  the  Inquisition,  from 
an  eulogy  of  Charles  V  of  Trance,  f  The  crowning  inci-  xiie  sup- 
dent  in  the  long  struggle  was  the  suppression  of  La  Harpe's  fhrEutogyof 
Eulogy  of  Fenelon.  It  was,  surely,  in  fit  sequence  that  the 
illustrious  prelate  whom  Lewis  XIV  had  vainly  tried  to 
disgrace,  should  be  hateful  to  such  a  successor  and  to  such 
a  court.  This  suppression  was  followed  up  by  a  royal  letter, 
which  impressed  on  the  Academicians  their  duty  to  make 
a  discreet  choice  in  filling  up  vacancies;  named,  with 
praise,  two  Academicians  whose  "  wisdom  and  moderation" 
had  merited  royal  pensions ;  and  announced  his  Majesty's 
gracious  willingness  to  grant  similar  rewards  to  such  of 
their  colleagues  "  as  should  emulate  their  virtues."  But 
there  were  no  new  candidates  for  venal  pensions.  One,  at 
least,  of  the  two  favoured  Academicians  felt  shame  at  the 
praises  of  Lewis  XV,  and,  despite  all  precautions,  unpa- 
latable truths  still  found  utterance  from  Academic  benches. 

In  1776,  the  Academy  won,  from  its  exiled  member  at 
Ferney,  a  compliment  very  little  to  its  credit.  '*  D'Alembert 
and  our  other  friends,"   wrote  Voltaire  to  La  Harpe,  "  are 

*  Grimm  and  Diderot,  Covres'pondance  litteraire,  viii,  388. 
t  Voltaire,  Correspondance,  15  August,  1776. 


42       THE  CONFLICT  OF  SEBASTIAN   CHAMFORT 

doing  a  patriotic  work  in  daring  to  defend  in  the  Academy 
Sophocles,  Comeille,  Euripides,  and  Racine,  against  Gilles, 
Shakespeare,  and  Pierrot  le  Tourneur."  Le  Tourneur  had 
dared  to  call  Shakespeare  the  "  Divinity  of  the  Stage ;" 
"  the  highest  type  of  true  tragic  art.'*  But,  after  all,  it  is 
from  the  vile  pen  of  an  English  scribbler  that  Voltaire 
borrows  his  closing  taunt :  "  Rymer,"  he  says,  "  had  good 
ground  to  assert  that  Shakespeare  '  was  a  wretched  ape.'  "* 
Dunng  the  reign  of  Lewis  XVI  the  most  notable  re- 
ceptions were  those  of  Malesherbes  (1775),  La  Harpe 
(1770),  Ducis  (1779),  Chamfort  (1781),  and  Target  (1785). 
The  career  Chauifort  had  been  nursed  in  the  Academy's  lap.     While 

of  Chamfort.  . 

yet  "  young,  poor,  and  proud"  (as  Grimm  describes  him, 
in  August,  1764),  he  obtained  a  poetry  prize  for  his 
Epitre  d'un  pere  a  son  Jils,  which  was  followed  by  several 
other  like  successes.  When  received  as  an  Academician, 
he  eulogised  that  chivalrous  old  France  of  which  his  prede- 
cessor. Saint  Palaye,  had  been  so  enamoured,  but  with  a 
warmth  of  colouring  of  which  Saint  Palaye  was  incapable. 
Broad,  indeed,  is  the  contrast  between  this  discourse  and 
the  flimsy  diatribe  in  which  Chamfort,  in  the  early  days  of 
the  Revolution,  attacked  his  foster-mother  as  "  useless, 
ridiculous,  despicable,  and  degraded ; "  given  over  to 
**  servility,"  and  shamefully  implicated  in  "  that  most  in- 
famous of  trades,  the  traffic  in  the  liberties  of  nations." 

At  that  time,  violent  abuse — if  copious  enough — went 
fjir  towards  supplying  the  most  pitiable  lack  of  argument. 
And  Chamfort's  mind  had  already  lost  its  balance.  He 
has  himself  somewhere  said — speaking  of  his  own  sensual 
passions — "  I  have  destroyed  them,  as  a  furious  rider  kills 

*  Voltaii'e  and  D'Alembert,  Coirespondance,  7  Oct.,  1771.     [Edition 
of  1837,  X,  705.] 


WITH  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY.  43 

his  horse."  But  he  had  really  destroyed  something  higher 
and  nobler.  Chateaubriand  scarcely  needed  to  express  his 
amazement  that  one  who  had  so  large  a  knowledge  of  man- 
kind, should  yet  be  so  fierce  a  partisan.     It  is  as  easy  to  character  of 

'  ...  .  Chamfort. 

emasculate,  by  vicious  indulgence,  the  mind,  as  the  body. 
Chamfort  was  of  that  unhappy  temper  which  had  rather 
rule  in  hell,  than  serve  in  heaven.  Truth  and  falsehood, 
to  a  mind  of  that  strain,  vary  with  the  impressions  of  the 
passing  hour.  At  first,  an  impetuous  promoter  of  the 
Revolution,  at  all  hazards,  he  at  length  tried  to  guide  it ; 
and  when  he  found  it  too  strong  for  him,  he  assailed  it 
with  the  utmost  bitterness.  He  tried  to  rule  the  French 
Academy,  and  failing  to  achieve  even  that,  he  sought  its 
destruction.  He  knew  that  the  primary  functions  of  the 
Academy  made  it,  implicitly,  an  antagonist  of  despotism. 
He  knew  that  it  had  powerfully  aided  in  raising  the  literary 
profession  to  responsibility  and  comparative  independence. 
He  knew  that  some  of  the  best  minds  in  France  had  been 
proud  of  its  fellowship.     The  internecine  war  which  had     ^is  attack 

1  11  14         1  11  .     .         on  the   Aca- 

been  waged  between  the  Academy  and  the  corrupt  minis-  demy. 
tries  of  Lewis  XV  was  within  his  own  memory.  Its 
history  had  been  the  theme  of  his  own  warm  and  repeated 
praises.  But  when  he  praised  it,  he  had  eyes  only  for  the 
bright  side  of  a  long  and  varied  career.  When  he  vilified 
it,  he  could  see  nothing  save  the  dark  spots. 

Accusation,  in  revolutionary  times,  is  often  but  another 
word  for  doom.  It  was  planned  that  a  second  denunciation, 
also  written  by  Chamfort,  should  be  uttered  in  the  National 
Assembly  by  Mirabeau,  who,  but  a  few  years  before,  had 
used  very  different  language  in  supporting  the  pretensions 
of  Target  to  a  seat.  Mirabeau's  death  intervened,  but  the  The  cumo- 
Academy's  fall  was  not  long  delayed,  and  it  carried  with  it  S"mJ/'"' 
that  of  all  similar  corporations  throughout  France.     The 


44  SUPPRESSION  AND  ULTIMATE  REVIVAL. 

seal  of  the  Republic  was  affixed  to  its  doors  in  August, 
1793.  The  foresight  of  Morellet,  then  secretary,  had,  by 
a  "  pious  larceny  " — as  he  calls  it  in  his  Memoirs — previ- 
ously secured  the  Charter,  a  nearly  complete  series  of 
Minutes,  and  other  MSS.  Eighty  portraits  of  Academicians 
were  successfully  concealed  within  the  Louvre  itself,  until 
the  dawn  of  better  days.  A  decree,  passed  during  the  last 
throes  of  the  Reign  of  Terror  (July,  1794),  declared  the 
property  of  the  suppressed  Academies  to  be  National  pro- 
perty. 

The  "  Constitution  of  the  year  III."  decreed  the  creation 
of  a  National  Institute  "  for  the  collection  of  discoveries 
and  the  improvement  of  the  arts  and  sciences."  Hence, 
eventually,  arose  the  restored  French  Academy,  but  that 
restoration  formed  no  part  of  the  original  design. 


THE  PRIZES  OF  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY.        45 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE     ACADEMIC     PRIZES     AND  THEIR     RESULTS,    UP     TO    THE 

DATE  OF  THE  REVOLUTIONARY  DISSOLUTION. CREATION 

AND    SUBSEQUENT    REORGANIZATION   OF   THE   INSTITUTE. 
RETURN    OF    THE    SURVIVING    ACADEMICIANS. 

Thus  far  I  have  sought  to  exhibit  something  of  the 
work  and  influence  of  this  remarkable  institution,  chiefly 
by  noticing  the  more  conspicuous  among  the  men  who 
received  its  honours,  the  themes  chosen  for  its  pubhc  dis- 
plays, and  its  attitude  towards  the  government  of  the  day. 
I  have  yet  to  mention  the  "  prizes  "  which  it  either  estab- 
lished or  administered.  Of  another  and  very  prominent 
function — the  preparation  of  the  Didionnaire  de  V Academie 
Fran^aise — nothing  can  here  be  said.  Few  books  have  a 
more  curious  history,  but  to  treat  it  fairly  would  require 
time  and  space  not  now  available.  I  indulge  the  hope  of 
writing  something  on  that  subject  hereafter. 

Balzac,  as  early  as  the  year  1655,  established  the  B^izac's 
"  Eloquence  prize,"  the  themes  of  which  were,  for  a  long  eloquence 
time,  limited  to  religion  and  ethics.  Saint  Pierre's  unsuc- 
cessful suggestion,  that  it  should  be  given  to  biographical 
eulogies  of  the  great  men  of  France,  was  revived,  with 
better  fortune,  by  Duclos,  in  1758.  Before  this  date,  the 
laureated  names  are,  Colin,  Roy,  Ragon,  Nicolas,  and  the 
like.  After  it,  we  find  Thomas,  La  Harpe,  Necker,  Garat, 
Lacretelle,  De  Gerando,  Fabre,  Villeraain.  If  another  list 
could  be  framed  of  those  youthful  minds  to  whom  such 


prize. 


Paul  I'dlis- 
soii   ami    llie 


46  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY 

brief  and  vigorous  biographies  of  Fenelon,  Montesquieu, 
Pascal,  Majesherbes,  have  given  a  spur — 

To  scorn  delights  and  live  laborious  days, 

we  should  probably  have  a  very  apposite  vindication  of  the 
**  utility  "  of  the  institution,  in  this  department  of  its  work. 
Nor  is  it  the  Academy's  smallest  merit  that,  whilst  glorify- 
ing intellectual  power,  it  has  repeatedly  testified  to  the  due 
subordination  of  literatiu*e  to  life. 

Paul  Pellisson  followed  Balzac's  example,  by  founding  a 
poctrj  prize.  "  Poctry  prizc."  His  own  verses  are  very  poor,  but  much 
of  his  life  is  a  worthy  theme  for  poetry.  His  faithful 
service  and  adherence  to  Fouquet  cost  him  a  long  imprison- 
ment. In  the  Bastille  he  wrote  those  defences  of  his 
fallen  master  which  are  the  best,  as  well  as  the  best  known, 
productions  of  his  pen.  There,  too,  he  accomplished  that 
musical  education  of  a  spider  which  has  become  so  famous. 
When  released,  he  made,  for  the  rest  of  his  life,  the  anni- 
versary of  his  freedom,  the  liberation  day  of  several  poor 
prisoners.  Madame  de  Sevigne  might  well  say  of  him, 
that  "although  he  abused  the  privilege  men  have  to  be 
ugly,  a  noble  soul  dwelt  in  that  uncouth  form."  For  one 
of  these  Pellisson  prizes,  Voltaire  was  an  unsuccessful 
candidate.  Sixty-five  years  afterwards,  "  Voltaire"  was  the 
theme  of  another.  The  last  prize  given  before  the  sup- 
pression was  the  first  triumph  of  Fontanes. 


Creation  of 
the  French 
Institute. 


The  creation  of  the  Institute,  decreed  in  1794,  was  not 
eff'ected  until  nearly  the  close  of  1795.  It  was  to  have 
144  members,  in  three  classes :  I,  Physical  and  Mathema- 
tical Sciences ;  II,  Moral  and  Political  Sciences ;  III, 
Literature  and  the  Fine  Arts.  The  ideas  of  the  period  are 
characteristically  reflected  in   the  apportionment  of    120 


AS  A   CLASS  OF  THE   INSTITUTE.  47 

members  to  Sciences  and  Arts,  and  of  18  members  to 
Literature.  In  April,  1796,  the  Institute  was  installed  in 
the  Louvre.  The  Statutes  had  directed  that  the  alternate 
sittings  of  each  class  should  be  public.  Within  a  fortnight 
of  the  installation,  a  new  by-law  was  imposed  on  the 
Institute,  which  abrogated  that  proviso,  because  "  too  much 
publicity  was  attended  rather  with  inconvenience  than 
advantage."  It  was  significantly  added,  that  "  this  new 
regulation  shall  not  be  printed."  Next  year,  five  members 
of  the  Institute — Bai-thelemy,  Carnot,  Pastoret,  Sicard, 
and  Fontanes — were  sentenced  to  be  "  deported ''  to 
Cayenne,  and  they  were  not  restored  to  their  seats  until 
after  Napoleon's  triumph  on  the  18th  of  Brumaire. 

At  the  end  of  1802,  the  Institute  ceased  to  retain  the 
form  which  the  Convention  had  assigned  to  it.  Proud  as 
Napoleon  was  of  its  fellowship,  and  ostentatiously  as  he 
wore  its  uniform,  he  had  never  liked  its  organization.  In 
his  eyes  a  "  Class  of  Moral  and  Political  Sciences  "  was 
open  to  two  weighty  objections.  At  the  best,  it  would  be 
but  an  elaborate  machine  for  wasting  time  in  the  discussion 
of  "  unprofitable  theories."  If  it  chanced  to  fall  under  the  ««  wor- 
lead  of  "  wrong-headed  men,"  it  would  turn  into  a  sort  of  >apoieon. 
I)olitical  opposition,  likely  to  be  none  the  less  troublesome 
for  wearing  a  mask.  The  purely  literary  section  of  the 
Institute,  he,  at  this  time,  regarded  with  greater  com- 
placency. He  once  said,  with  that  felicity  of  expression 
which,  in  his  best  moments,  so  often  gave  wings  to  his 
thoughts,  "  I  love  the  sciences.  Each  of  them  is  a  beautiful 
application  of  a  part  of  the  human  mind.  But  literature 
is  the  mind  itself."  Napoleon  never  approved  of  the  plans 
of  that  somewhat  pretentious  little  circle  to  which  his 
brother  Lucien  and  his  sister  EHza  belonged,  in  conjunction 
with  Suard,    Morellet,    and  Fontanes,   and  in   which  the 


48    THE  SUEVIVORS  OF  THE  OLD  FRENCH  ACADEMY. 

restoration  of  the  old  Academy,  unaltered,  was  advocated. 
But  he  was  willing  to  give  literature  freer  scope  in  the 
Institute,  and  anxious  that  the  great  task  of  the  Dictionary 
should  be  vigorously  prosecuted. 

With  these  views,  he  re-organized  the  Institute  in 
January,  1803.  Four  classes  were  assigned  to  it: — I, 
Physical  and  Mathematical  Sciences  ;  II,  French  Language 
and  Literature ;  III,  Ancient  Languages  and  Literature ; 
IV,  Fine  Arts.  The  Class  of  Moral  and  Political  Sciences 
was  nominally  merged  in  the  Class  of  French  Literature, 
but  was,  in  fact,  suppressed.  "A  Class  of  Literature," 
said  Napoleon,  on  this  occasion,  "  must  needs  be  trivial, 
and  a  *  Class  of  Moral  Sciences '  pedantic,  if  they  can  be 
really  separated.  Writers  who  are  not  thinkers,  and 
thinkers  who  are  not  writers,  will  soon  cease  to  be  either 
the  one  or  the  other."  To  the  budding  Emperor,  a  better 
argument  would  have  been  less  convenient.  The  "  Forty  " 
of  the  old  Academy  was  to  be  the  number  of  the  new 
literature  class,  and  its  survivors — with  one  exception — 
were  to  resume  their  seats.  The  total  number  of  members 
of  the  Institute  was  raised  to  165. 
The  return  Amoug  thc  surviviug  Academicians,  the  names  of  La 
vivor<!  of  the  Harpe,  Suard,  Ducis,  Target,  St.  Lambert,  and  Delille,  are 
old  Academy,  (jouspicuous.  Ouc  of  them,  the  Count  of  Bissy,  had  been 
an  Academician  in  1750.  The  new  members  included 
Volney,  Garat,  Cambacer^s,  Cabanis,  Bemardin  de  Saint 
Pierre,  Sieyes,  Merlin,  Rcederer,  Fontanes,  Segur,  Portalis, 
Marie  Joseph  Chenier,  with  others  of  less  note.  The  most 
prominent  of  the  subsequent  elections,  during  the  reign  of 
Napoleon,  were  those  of  Maury,  of  Destutt  de  Tracy,  and 
of  Chateaubriand. 

Cardinal  Maury  was  the  only  survivor  of  the   "  Forty  " 
who  had  been  excluded  from  the  Institute  at  its  reorgani- 


THE  RE-ADMISSION  OF  CARDINAL  MAURY.  49 

zation.     He  was  then  amonp^  the  zealous  enemies  of  Na-    The  re  ad- 

'-'  ^  mission  of 

poleon.       But   the  hoped-for   reverses   in  the    Emperors     cardinal 
fortunes   tarried,  and   Maury's  ardour  cooled.      Growing        ''"'^' 
weary   of  his  long  exile   at   Montefiascone,  he  at  length 
wrote  to  Napoleon,  and  obtained  an  interview  at  Genoa. 
In  180G,  he  was  permitted  to  return,  and  in  1807  was 
elected  into  the  Institute  to  fill  the  place  of  Target,  who  • 
had  been  his  junior  in  the  old  Academy. 

Maury's  reputation  drew  a  large  audience  to  his  recep- 
tion. He  was  known  to  be  an  orator  as  well  as  a  wit. 
Curiosity  was  heightened  by  the  singularity  of  the  circum- 
stances. A  man  who  had  taken  his  seat  in  the  Academy 
as  successor,  under  Lewis  XV,  of  the  unlucky  and  still 
unforgotten  Le  Franc  de  Pompignan,  was  now,  under 
Napoleon,  to  biographize  Target,  whose  weaknesses  he  was 
thought  little  likely  to  spare.  The  excitement  which  prevailed 
in  certain  circles  is  curiously  shown,  by  the  fact  that  Target's 
admirers  had  a  vindication  of  him  (especially  in  relation  to 
his  refusal  to  plead  for  Lewds  XVI  at  the  bar  of  the  Con- 
vention), printed  beforehand,  and  distributed  at  the  doors 
of  the  Academy.  But  the  precaution  w^as  needless,  and 
the  public  disappointment  great.  The  Cardinal  injured 
no  reputation  save  his  own.  Avoiding  Target,  he  took  for 
his  theme  a  certain  Abbe  de  Radouvilliers — who  had  died 
uneulogized,  during  the  Academy's  suspension — the  dull- 
ness of  whose  career  quite  overpowered  Maury's  own 
vivacity.  All  that  his  ill-wdllers  felt  to  be  necessary  for 
the  gratification  of  their  spite,  was  the  circulation,  in  the 
new^spapers, — amongst  the  Parisian  occurrences  of  the  day 
— of  the  announcement  that  "  Qn  the  6th  instant,  an  emi- 
nent personage  drowned  himself,  not  far  from  the  Pont-des 
Arts." 


SCOTTISH  ORIGIN  OF  DE  TRACY. 


Srottisli 
orijfiii   of  Dc 
Triicv. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    LIFE,  THE    PHILOSOPHY,  AND   THE    ACADEMICAL   RECEP- 
TION   OF     DESTUTT     DE    TRACY. HIS  .  MINOR     WRITINGS 

AND    HIS    DEATH. 

Antoine  Louis  Claude  Destutt  de  Tracy  was  the  eldest 
son  of  Claude  Charles  Louis  Uestutt  de  Tracy,  Marquis  of 
Tracy,  and  a  Peer  of  France,  and  of  Marie  Eiuilie  de 
Verzure.  He  was  bom  on  the  20th  of  July,  1754.  De- 
scended as  he  was  from  a  long  line  of  distinguished  soldiers 
— the  founder  of  whom  had  come  to  France,  from  Scotland, 
with  John  Stewart,  Earl  of  Buchan,  and,  like  him  (although 
without  winning,  as  Buchan  won,  the  leading-staiff  of  a 
Marshal  of  France),  fought  with  distinction  on  behalf  of 
Charles  VII — he  entered  the  army  at  an  early  age,  and 
in  1776  had  already  attained  the  rank  of  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  in  the  Royal  Regiment  of  Horse.  In  1 788,  he 
took  an  active  part  in  the  proceedings  of  the  Provincial 
States  of  the  Bourbonnais ;  was  elected  by  the  nobility  of  that 
])rovince  a  member  of  the  States  General,  and  distinguished 
himself  in  the  Constituent  Assembly  by  his  labours  on 
questions  of  educational  and  social  reform.  With  Lafayette, 
he  served  on  the  frontier,  as  connnander-in-chief  of  the 
cavalry ;  and  when  that  general  left  his  army,  De  Tracy 
too  retired  to  Auteuil,  where  he  exchanged  the  life  of  a 
legislator  and  a  soldier  for  that  of  a  student. 

At  the  outset,  his  attention  was  chiefly  bestowed  on  the 


DE  TRACY'S  PEKIL  IN  THE  REVOLUTION.  51 

physical  sciences,  and  especially  on  chemistry.  During  the  Hispmiin 
Reign  of  Terror,  he  was  dragged  from  his  retirement,  and  uol. 
confined  in  the  Carmelite  Prison.  Here  he  read  Locke  and 
Condillac ;  meditated  deeply  on  the  processes  of  his  own 
mind;  and,  on  a  memorable  day,  the  23rd  of  July,  1794 
(5  Thermidor,  year  II),  whilst  the  dismal  con'idors  of  the 
old  monastery  were  echoing  with  the  long  roll-call  for  the 
guillotine,  in  which  he  had  reason  to  expect  that  at  any 
moment  he  might  hear  his  own  name,  he  marked  the  out- 
lines and  wrote  down  the  main  propositions  of  that  system 
of  ''  Ideology,"  which  it  was  to  be  the  grand  aim  of  his 
unexpectedly  prolonged  life  to  embody  in  detail.  Four 
days  afterwards,  Robespierre  fell,  but  many  months  elapsed 
before  De  Tracy  could  return  to  his  home. 

At  Auteuil,  the  fascinating  widow  of  Helvetius  was  long 
the  centre  of  a  brilliant  circle,  in  which  the  philosophers  of 
the  day  played  no  unimportant  part.  Sieyes,  Volney, 
Garat,  Cabanis,  De  Tracy,  met  there  habitually.  The  two 
last  named  were  soon  linked  in  close  friendship.  Together, 
they  became  members  of  the  newly  founded  National  In- 
stitute, at  whose  meetings  the  dissertations  in  which  De 
Tracy  first  gave  to  the  world  his  views  of  ideology,  alter- 
nated with  those  in  which  Cabanis  worked  out,  physiologi- 
cally, the  famous  theory  of  Condillac,  that  all  our  intel- 
lectual operations,  whether  passive  or  active,  are  but 
transformed  sensations. 

An  eminent  historian  of  recent  philosophy  in  France  has 
characterized  and  discriminated  the  respective  labours  of 
the  three  most  eminent  members  of  this  Auteuil  circle,  by 
calling  Cabanis,  the  physiologist ;  Volney,  the  moralist ; 
and  De  Tracy,  the  metaphysician,  of  the  sensational  school.* 

*  Damiron,    Huifoire    de   la   Philosophie    ev-   France  an  XIX'    Sit-cle, 
i,  109. 


The  KIcinents 
of  l(l(()l(ij.'y. 


r>2  THE  "ELEMENTS  OF  IDEOLOGY." 

'J'o  marshal  into  rigid  order,  our  "  means  of  knowing,"  to 
elicit  the  laws  which  govern,  and  the  secret  links  which 
connect,  the  formation,  the  expression,  and  the  deduction 
of  our  ideas,  was  the  task  which  De  Tracy  had  in  the  Car- 
melite Prison  marked  out  for  himself,  or  for  his  unknown 
successor.  "  Ideology  is  a  branch  of  Zoology ;"  "  to  think 
is  to  feel ;"  such  are  the  epigrammatic  axioms  in  which  he 
expresses  his  characteristic  thoughts. 

According  to  De  'JVacy,  our  intellectual  impressions 
are  of  four  kinds :  (1.)  Those  resulting  from  the  present 
action  of  objects  upon  the  nervous  system ;  (2.)  Those  re- 
sulting from  the  past  action  of  objects,  by  means  of  an 
influence  superinduced  upon  that  system ;  (3.)  Those  of 
things  which  have  mutual  relations,  and  admit  of  compari- 
son ;  (4.)  Those  which  arise  from  our  wants,  and  impel  us 
to  satisfy  them.  When  our  sensibility  receives  impressions 
of  the  first  class,  it  simply  feels;  of  the  second,  it  recalls 
feeling,  or  reviemhcrs ;  of  the  third,  it  feels  relations,  or 
jialc/es ;  of  the  fourth,  it  feels  desire,  or  wills.*  These 
propositions  are  worked  out  in  clear  and  vigorous  language, 
and  with  a  clinching  logic  to  which  nothing  can  be  denied, 
if  the  premises  be  granted. 

The  Projet  (TElemens  d*Id4ologie  was  well  received, 
especially  in  those  Central  Schools  of  the  Republic  to  which 
the  author  had  expressly  addressed  himself.  Several  pro- 
fessors made  it  a  text-book  for  their  lectures.  But  ideology 
was  soon  banished,  by  authority,  from  the  curriculum  of 
the  Central  Schools,  to  its  author's  great  dissatisfaction. 
The  second  part  of  the  Elemens,  containing  an  elaborate 
and  valuable  treatise  on  grammar,  appeared  in  1803.  The 
third  part — a  treatise  on  logic — followed  two  years  later. 
Ten  more  yeai*s  elapsed  before  the  publication  of  the  fourth 

*  Elemens  d'Ideologie,  i,  39 — 74,  seq. 


THE  "ELEMENTS  OF  IDEOLOGY"  DISCUSSED.     53 

and  of  a  part  of  the  fifth  divisions  of  the  work,  which  were 
published  together  in  1815.  The  bulk  of  this  latter 
volume  is,  in  substance,  a  treatise  on  social  economy.  Had 
the  author's  plan  been  carried  out,  the  Eleniens  d'Ideohgie 
would  have  comprised  three  main  divisions,  each  consisting 
severally  of  three  parts.  Thus,  (1.)  The  introduction  of 
Ideology;  (2.)  the  Grammar ;  and,  (3.)  The  Logic,  together, 
formed  (I)  a  "  History  of  our  means  of  knowing."  In  like 
manner,  treatises  on  (4.)  Social  Economy ;  (5.)  Morals ;  (6.) 
Government;  formed  (II)  "  The  application  of  our  means 
of  knowing  to  the  study  of  the  will  and  of  its  results  ;"  and 
finally,  treatises  on  (7.)  P>^^s?c5;  (8.)  Geometry;  (9.)  Cal- 
culation [calcul) ;  formed,  collectively,  (HI.)  "  The  applica- 
tion of  our  means  of  knowing,  to  the  study  of  beings  extra- 
neous to  ourselves  "  {V etude  des  etres  qui  ne  sont  pas  nous).* 

The  Elemens  d' Ideologic  became  the  occasion  of  a  on  ideoio-y 
remarkable  discussion  in  the  French  Academy.  De  Ji"n,y 
Tracy  entered  it,  in  1808,  as  the  successor  of  his  old  friend 
Cabanis.  He  made  the  eulogy  of  Cabanis  an  elaborate 
glorification  of  this  "  sensational "  philosophy, — according 
to  which  the  house  is  identical  with  the  tenant.  "  All  our 
ideas  come  from  the  senses."  "  To  think  is  to  feel."  "  In 
the  nerves,  we  have  the  man."  By  the  Director  of  the  day. 
Count  de  Segur,  these  doctrines  were  differently  regarded. 
He  reminded  De  Tracy  of  his  own  saying  that  "  Every 
system  of  metaphysics  is  a  romance."  Surely,  it  could  not 
be  his  intention  to  erect  into  a  "  system  " — certainly  as 
much  a  romance  as  the  rest,  but  stripped  of  their  attrac- 
tions— doctrines,  of  which  the  smallest  mischief  would  be 
to  destroy  all  charm  in  the  present,  and  all  hope  of  the 
future ;  to  reduce  glory  into  organic  combinations,  and  to 
resolve  noble  passions  into  coarse  sensations ;  thus  "  lower- 

*  Elemens  d' Ideologic,  iii,  520 — 521. 


in    tlie   Aca- 


The      sha- 
dows   of   old 


54  THE  SHADOWS  OF  OLD  AGE. 

ing  human  existence ;  disenchanting  earth ;  and  depopulat- 
ing heaven."  Tracy's  speech  had  its  full  share  of 
complimentary  phrases  for  "the  hero  who  is  the  admiration 
of  the  universe."  He  who  had  danced  with  Marie  Antoi- 
nette,* and  had  fought  by  the  side  of  La  Fayette,  did  not 
foresee  that  he  had  yet  before  him  the  task  of  moving,  in 
the  French  Senate,  the  dethronement  of  Napoleon. 

Like  so  many  other  vast  designs,  both  in  Philosophy  and 
Literature,  and  like  so  many  of  which  the  interruption 
has  entailed  a  much  greater  loss  on  the  world — it  was  the 
fate  of  the  Elcmens  (Tldeologie  to  be  scarcely  half  com- 
pleted. "  Nothing  more  of  all  this  is  now  permitted  to  me. 
This  fragment  is  my  last  writing,"!  are  the  touching  words 
with  which  he  breaks  off.|  A'he  gradual  coming  on  of 
blindness,  which  after  a  time  became  total,  to  be  followed 
by  an  only  partial  restoration  of  sight,  would  probably  not, 
of  itself,  have  sufficed  to  daunt  the  perseverance  of  so  reso- 
lute a  man.  Indeed,  he  so  underwent  a  very  painful 
operation,  as  to  show  that  the  fortitude  which  had  been 
evinced  so  signally  in  the  Carmelite  Prison,  was  still  intact. 
But  the  mind  had  lost  its  elasticity.  Its  dearest  friendships 
had  been  broken  by  death.  The  days  had  come  when  the 
strongest  is  forced  to  say,   "I  have  no  pleasure  in   them." 

*  The  famous  "  Ideologiat "  had  once  been  known  in  Parisian  circles 
as  "  le  beau  danseur  do  la  reine." 

t  Elemens  d'Ideologie,  v,  523. 

X  It  is  stated  by  the  continuators  of  Qu^rard  {La  LUteraiwre  Frcm- 
^aise  Contemporaine,  iii,  521),  that  Compagnoni's  Italian  translation, 
published  at  MUan  in  1819,  contains  an  additional  portion  of  the  fifth 
part,  which  has  not  appeared  in  French.  I  am  unable  either  to  verify  a 
statement  so  opposed  to  M.  de  Tracy's  express  assertion,  or  to  deny  it. 
But  no  such  additional  matter  appears  in  the  subsequent  translation  of 
a  selection  of  De  Tracy's  writings  in  the  Collezione  dei  Classici 
Metafisici  (Pavia,  1822—26),  now  before  me.  ' 


DE  TRACY'S  COMMENTARY  ON  MONTESQUIEU.      55 

To  this  man  they  brought  a  special  sorrow.  The  bright 
era  he  had  hailed  as  ensuring  a  "  development  of  reason 
and  an  increase  of  happiness  which  we  vainly  seek  to  esti- 
mate by  the  example  of  past  ages,"*  had  but  dawned,  to 
vanish  quickly  behind  thick  clouds  : 

"  Another  race  had  been,  and  other  palms  were  won." 

How  far  the  chastened  spirit,  in  its  latest  moments,  ever 
realised  to  itself  the  hollowness  of  that  philosophy  which 
conjoined  the  highest  conceptions  of  the  dignity  and 
sacredness  of  man's  rights  and  capabilities  upon  earth, 
with  utter  insensibility  to  his  power  of  living  a  divine  life 
within  himself,  and  of  maintaining  the  faith  "  that  looks 
through  death,"  we  cannot  know. 

It  is  certain  that  the  long  and  deep  melancholy  that 
settled  around  the  close  of  a  stirring  and  brilliant  career, 
never  obstructed  those  acts  of  habitual  beneficence  which 
testified  how  much  the  man  was  better  than  his  teaching. 
Sensationalism  is  truly  a  creed  which  tends  to  "  disenchant 
earth  and  to  depopulate  heaven."  But  many  a  deed  of  mercy 
contained  the  implicit  refutation  of  a  doctrine  to  which  the 
doer  still  lovingly  clung.  The  man  to  whom  belief  was 
humihation;  who  neither  knew,  nor,  according  to  his  own 
theories,  could  know,  whether  or  not  he  had  an  immortal 
soul ;  whether  or  not  there  is  a  God ;  could  yet  find  it  in 
his  heart  to  build  a  church  for  the  consolation  of  humble 
believers,  to  whom  faith  is  instinctive  and  doubt  unknown. 

Of  the  minor  works  of  De  Tracy,  httle  need  be  said,     oe xiacy* 
The    most  noticeable   of    them   is    the    Commentaire   sur 
I' Esprit  des  Lois,  first  published  in   Philadelphia  in  1811. 
This  treatise  had  been  sent  to  Jefferson,  hi  the  original 
French,   in  June,    1809.     At  that  day,  it  was  not  at  ail 

*  Elemens  d'IcUoloyie,  ii.  11. 


Commen- 
taire sur 
VEsprit      del 
Luis. 


56         CLOSE  OF  DE  TRACY'S  POLITICAL  CAREER. 

suited  for  the  meridian  of  Paris.  JeiBerson  caused  it  to  be 
translated,  and  called  it  "  the  most  precious  gift  the  present 
age  has  received."  In  1814,  the  anonymous  American 
book  attracted  the  attention  of  Dupont  de  Nemours,  who 
brought  it  to  De  Tracy,  as  a  book  well  worthy  to  be  natu- 
ralized in  France.  At  first,  De  Tracy  evaded  any  expres- 
sion of  his  opinion.  When  Dupont,  shortly  afterwards, 
resumed  the  subject,  and  spoke  of  an  intention  to  translate 
the  work,  he  took  the  MS.  from  the  drawer,  and  placed  it 
in  his  hands.  When,  at  length,  the  book  appeared  in 
French,  it  passed  quickly  through  several  editions,  and  was 
thrice  translated  into  Spanish. 

The  political  career  of  De  Tracy  closed  with  the  fall  of 
Close  of  Dc  Napoleon.  He  had  always  been  one  of  the  small  knot  of 
tiw7cLS.'  temperate  but  firm  opponents  of  the  prevalent  policy,  who 
redeemed  the  Senate  from  political  insignificance.  He  was 
now  one  of  the  five  senators  appointed  to  draw  up  the 
project  of  a  "  constitutional  act."  Three  others  of  the  five 
were  members  of  the  old  circle  at  Auteuil.  Lewis  XVHI 
made  De  Tracy  a  Peer  of  France  under  the  new  constitu- 
tion, but  he  rarely  appeared  in  the  Chamber.  The  course 
of  events  was  little  in  harmony  with  his  convictions  or  his 
hopes.  To  listen  to  a  few  favom*ite  authors ;  to  converse 
occasionally  with  the  sadly  lessened  group  of  familiar 
friends ;  to  keep  up  the  accustomed  round  of  kindly  deeds, 
were  now  the  only  employments  which  diversified  the 
home-life  of  an  affectionate  family.  As  age  crept  on,  his 
thoughts  dwelt  more  and  more  apart.  He  was  wont  to 
spend  not  a  little  of  his  time  in  gazing  from  a  window  on 
the  passing  clouds — his  eyes  still  sufficed  for  that.  "I 
suffer,  therefore  I  am,"  he  would  sometimes  say.  To  the 
last  he  entertained  a  fond  remembrance  of  his  early  pilgrim- 


CLOSE  OF  DE  TRACY^S  POLITICAL  CAREER.         57 

age  to  Ferney;  and  Voltaire  was  always  the  author  he 
most  preferred  to  have  read  to  him.  His  sensational 
"  philosophy  "  had  carried  him  no  higher. 

The  courtier  of  Marie  Antoinette,  the  fellow-soldier  of 
Lafayette,  the  senator  who  moved  the  dethronement  of 
Napoleon,  lived  to  wander,  curiously  peering  about  him, 
amidst  the  barricades  of  July,  and  to  hear  of,  if  not  to 
witness,  the  many  stirring  incidents  of  the  first  six  years  of 
the  reign  of  King  Lewis  PhiHp.  He  died  on  the  6th 
March,  1836,  at  the  age  of  eighty-two.  The  wish  ex- 
pressed by  M.  Flourens  beside  the  grave,  that  his  writings, 
— which  are  very  widely  scattered, — should  be  collected, 
as  his  fittest  memorial,  has  not  yet  been  accomplished. 


58      CHATEAUBRIAND  AND  NAPOLEON  I. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CHEATEAUBRIAND     AND     NAPOLEON     I. THE    WRITER,    THE 

EXILE,    THE     STATESMAN,    AND     THE    ACADEMICIAN. AN 

IMPERIAL      AUDIENCE     AT    SAINT    CLOUD. THE    PUBLIC 

LIFE    OP    CHATEAUBRIAND   UNDER    THE    RESTORATION. 

THE    MEMOIRS  FROM  BEYOIfl)   TEB  ORAVB. 

'I'll  REE  years  later  than  Destutt  de  Tracy,  Chateaubriand 
entered  the  Second  Class  of  the  Institute.  His  fame  had 
begun  with  the  Genie  du  Christianisrne,  a  vigorous  and 
timely  protest,  in  substance,  against  some  of  the  doctrines 
of  which  De  Tracy  was  the  apostle.  But  when  one  reads 
the  racy,  expansive,  and  most  characteristic  Memoires 
d' outre  tombey  one  regrets  to  think — notwithstanding  the 
solemn  words  which  stand  on  their  title  page — "  Sicut 
nnhes;  quasi  naves;  velut  umbra,** — that  what  Chateaubriand 
chiefly  saw  in  Christianity  was  its  respectability,  its  political 
usefulness,  and  its  poetry. 

His  old  age,  like  that  of  De  Tracy,  was  often  oversha- 
dowed by  deep  gloom.  Standing  once  on  the  banks  of  the 
Lido,  he  was  heard  to  say  : — "  The  wind  that  blows  on  a 
hoary  head  never  blows  from  a  happy  shore." 

His  life,  in  its  vicissitudes  and  in  its  thickly  crowded 
memories,  is  one  of  the  most  marvellous  among  the  many 
remarkable  lives  which  have  been  led  by  Frenchmen  who 
had  attained  manhood  before  the  breaking  out  of  the  Revo- 
lution of  1789,  and  who  survived  to  witness  the  Revolution 


CHATEAUBRIAND'S  CAREER.  59 

of  1848.  Bom  and  bred  in  a  province  of  France,  in  which  the 
noble  was  still  honoured,  and  the  priest  still  revered,  Chateau- 
briand witnessed,  in  the  castles  of  Brittany,  a  mode  of  life, 
almost  feudal  in  its  family  relations  and  its  social  depen- 
dencies. Shorn,  indeed,  of  some  of  its  ancient  glories,  but 
still  invested  with  the  charms  of  a  sombre  magnificence, 
elsewhere  at  that  date  unequalled,  the  old  "  regime  "  yet 
lived  in  the  ancestral  chateau  of  Combourg,  of  the  daily 
routine  of  which  Chateaubriand  has  drawn  a  memorable 
picture,  with  a  master's  hand. 

He  had  had,  too,  some  glimpses  of  the  traditional  splen- 
dours of  the  Versailles  of  Lewis  XIV  as  they  were  handed 
down  to  the  courtiers  of  Marie  Antoinette.  When  Cha- 
teaubriand first  saw  that  fascinating  woman  he  was  struck, 
he  says,  with  a  peculiarity  in  her  smile,  which  he  had  never 
observed  in  any  other  woman.  The  remembrance  of  that 
smile  enabled  him  to  identify  her  remains,  when  the  corpse 
of  the  poor  queen  was  exhumed  from  its  obscure  resting 
place,  under  his  official  superintendence,  in  1815. 

During  the  last  struggles  of  the  Monarchy,  he  was 
exploring  the  lakes  and  the  forests  of  the  New  World.  It 
was  in  the  hut  of  an  American  backwoodsman,  near  the 
Blue  Mountains,  that  the  news  reached  him  of  the  flight 
of  Lewis  XVI  to  Varennes.  He  had  conversed  with 
Washington  at  Mount  Vernon  about  the  war  of  American 
Independence,  about  the  taking  of  the  Bastille,  and  about 
the  discovery  of  a  North-west  passage ;  and  he  had  con- 
versed with  Napoleon  about  Egypt,  about  the  traditions  of 
the  Arabs,  and  about  the  evidences  of  Christianity.  He 
had  lived  in  a  country  town  of  England  as  a  French 
teacher,  and  as  a  writer  or  translator  of  pamphlets,  for 
daily  bread ;  and  he  had  lived  in  London  as  the  Anibas- 
sador  of   Lewis   XVIIT.      Me   had    refused   an    Embassy 


60  CHATEAUBRIAND'S  CAREER. 

offered  by  Napoleon,  in  order  that  he  might  testify  unmis- 
takeahly  his  abhorrence  of  the  execution  of  the  Duke  of 
Enghien.  He  had  resigned  an  Embassy  accepted  from 
Charles  X,  that  he  might  emphatically  condemn  the  insane 
"  Ordinances  of  July."  His  latest  hours  were  saddened 
by  the  rumbling  of  that  terrible  cannonade  which,  in  June, 
1848,  trauipled  down  the  destructive  plots  of  Connnunism 
in  blood.  But  he  lived  long  enough  to  hear  that  civiliza- 
tion had  triumphed,  although  at  fearful  cost,  and  he  died 
with  the  conviction  that  there  was  no  need  to  despair  of 
the  Future  of  France. 

Franjois  Rene  de  Chateaubriand  was  the  youngest  of 
ten  children,  and  was  bom  at  Saint  Malo  on  the  4th  of 
September,  1768.  His  childhood  was  passed  atCombourg, 
which  he  thrice  revisited.  On  the  last  occasion,  when  on 
his  way  to  America,  he  found  it  a  ruin.  He  had  only 
courage  to  glance,  through  the  trees,  at  the  deserted  ter- 
race, which  he  never  trod  again.  The  old  donjon  tower 
still  rears  its  turrets  from  its  rocky  base,  but  the  fine  oak- 
woods,  which  once  sheltered  it,  have  quite  disappeared. 

In  Brittany,  Chateaubriand  received  holy  orders,  at  the 
hands  of  the  Bishop  of  St.  Malo,  as  a  mere  preliminary  to 
his  entrance  into  the  knightly  Order  of  Malta.  He  moralizes 
this  strange  desecration  by  the  thought  that,  after  all,  the 
revenues  of  some  benefice  or  other  would  have  been  better 
spent  in  maintaining  a  soldier  and  his  sword,  than  in 
enabling  some  dissolute  Abbe  to  flaunt  his  mantilla  in  the 
drawing-rooms  and  boudoirs  of  Paris.  When  he  himself 
reached  the  Capital,  the  first  sight  that  met  his  eyes  was  an 
insurrection. 

When  he  returned  to  France,  after  his  long  travels  in 
America,  he  had  scarcely  rested  his  foot  before  he  joined 


His      first 
eniisration 


THE  "ESSAY  ON  REVOLUTIONS."  61 

the  Emigration,  and  served  in  the  "  Army  of  the  Princes." 
Left  for  dead,  in  a  ditch  before  Thionville,  he  recovered,  and  ""(i  <^^- 
fled  to  England.  Here  he  set  himself  to  such  fitful  and  to  England. 
repugnant  penwork  as  the  journalist  Peltier,  and  others  of 
the  same  stamp,  found  for  him,  and  his  remuneration  was 
such  as  very  nearly  led — according  to  his  own  statement  in 
the  preface  (as  originally  printed)  to  Jfala — to  literal 
starvation.  A  chamber  companion  of  his,  in  those  days — 
they  lived  on  the  attic  floor  of  one  of  those  wretched- 
looking  houses  which  abut  on  a  large  burial  ground  in 
Marylebone —  did  actually  die  at  his  side,  he  says,  for  lack 
of  food. 

Thus  struggling  with  fortune,  and  gaining  a  livelihood, 
now  by  translating  obscure  pamphlets,  and  now  by  teaching 
French  to  such  pupils  as  he  could  obtain,  Chateaubriand 
began  to  nourish  a  literary  ambition,  which,  in  a  very  few 
years,  was  to  be  signally  gratified.  His  first  work,  the 
I!ssai  8ur  les  Reoolutions,  was  the  occasional  occupation  of 
two  years,  and  was  published  in  London,  in  1796.  Its  main 
drift  is  to  draw  parallels,  both  of  events  and  of  persons, 
between  the  French  revolution  and  former  revolutions, 
ancient  and  modern,  in  various  countries.  It  partakes 
strongly  of  that  pseudo-philosophic  and  sceptical  tone, 
which  is  the  special  characteristic  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
and  also  of  the  bitter  impatience  of  misfortune,  always  so 
natural  to  the  eager  appetencies  of  youth.  This  essay,  as 
published,  was  intended  to  be  but  the  prologue  of  a  larger 
work.  But  the  task  was  never  resumed.  The  author 
outgrew^  both  his  incredulity  and  his  misanthropy,  and  the 
interval  of  a  very  few  months  saw  him  busily  employed  on 
the  Genie  da  Christianisme,  as  a  sort  of  expiation  for  the 
Essai  sur  les  Eevoliitions.  How  this  great  change  was 
wrought    in    his    mind    he    has    himself  narrated  : — "  My 


G2  THE  "GENIUS  OF  CHRISTIANITY." 

Ti.o"  Genius  n^other,  haviii";  been  thrown  into  a  dungeon  at  seventy-two 

of       Christi-  .  . 

anity."  yeaFs  of  age,  expired  amidst  wretchedness,  and  her  last 
moments  were  embittered  by  the  remembrance  of  my  wan- 
derings from  the  right  path  ;  whilst  dying,  she  conjured 
one  of  my  sisters  to  bring  me  back  to  the  religion  in  which 
I  had  been  nurtured.  When  my  sister's  letter  reached  me 
in  my  exile,  she  also  was  no  more.  She,  too,  had  died  of 
the  consequences  of  her  imprisonment  during  the  Reign  of 
Terror.  These  two  voices  issuing  from  the  grave — one 
death  acting  as  interpreter  to  another — touched  me  to  the 
heart ;  I  became  a  Christian I  wept,  and  I  be- 
lieved." 

The  printing  of  the  Genius  of  Christianify  had  been 
commenced  in  London  in  1799;  but  the  work  was  not 
pubhshed  until  April,  1802,  nearly  two  years  after  Chateau- 
briand's return  to  France.  The  brilliant  success  of  Atala 
— an  episode  of  the  Genius  of  Christianity,  and  the  fruit  of 
the  author's  meditations  amongst  the  American  forests — 
paved  the  way  for  that  poetical  Retrospect  of  the  services 
which  Christianity  has  rendered  to  man  and  to  society^ 
which  unquestionably  was  of  no  mean  influence  in  checking 
the  more  outrageous  blasphemies,  and  the  grosser  forms  of 
irreligion,  that  had  so  run  riot  during  the  worst  days  of  the 
Revolution.  It  must  suffice  to  say  of  this  book,  that  I 
adopt,  concerning  it,  the  words  of  its  first  critic,  Fontanes, 
in  an  article  which  was  published  within  a  very  few  days  of 
the  work's  appearance  : — 

"  The  author,"  says  the  future  Grand  Master  of  the 
University  of  France,  "  has  aimed  at  presenting,  not  the 
theological  proofs  of  religion,  but  the  picture  of  its  benefits; 

he  appeals  rather  to  the  feelings  than  to  the  reason 

lie  depicts  reHgion  as  occupied  in  placing  sentinels,  as  it 
were,  on  all  the  paths  of  misfortune  to  discover  and  to 


THE  "GENIUS  OF  CHRISTIANITY."  63 

succour  it Piety  founds  hospitals,  endows  colleges, 

provides  education,  protects  the  arts  in  monasteries,  pre- 
serves and  interprets  the  manuscripts  in  which  is  deposited 
all  the  genius  of  the  ancients,  and  without  which  we  should 
be  poor  indeed  ;  it  traverses  Europe,  distributing  benefits, 
reclaiming  waste  lands,  multiplying  harvests,  peopling 
desert  countries.  But  there  is  a  grander  spectacle  still 
than  this  !  From  the  obscurity  of  their  cells  intrepid  men 
fly  to  holy  conquests.  They  encounter  every  danger,  and 
reach  the  very  extremities  of  the  earth,  to  save  souls, — to 
civilize  humanity."* 

Chenier,  Ginguene,  and  others  of  the  same  school^ 
attacked  the  book  with  much  violence ;  but  its  success  was 
immense,  and  was  testified — little  to  the  author's  satisfac- 
tion— by  its  surreptitious  reprint  in  two  distinct  piratical 
editions,  both,  I  believe,  printed  at  Avignon.  Chateau- 
briand gives  an  amusing  account  of  his  chase  of  the  pirate. 
No  sooner  had  he  alighted  in  Avignon  than  a  hawker 
offered  him  some  books  for  sale,  amongst  which  he  found 
Atala,  in  three  several  editions,  all  of  them  counterfeit. 
By  going  from  one  bookseller  to  another,  he  at  last  ferreted 
out  the  publisher,  to  whom  he  was  of  course  personally 
unknown,  and  purchased  of  him  the  four  volumes  of  the 
Genius  of  Christianity,  for  the  sum  of  nine  francs.  The 
worthy  bookseller,  who  was  hving  in  a  handsome  house, 
with  courtyard  and  garden,  bestowed  liberal  praises,  both 
on  the  work  and  on  its  author.  "  I  thought,"  adds  the 
latter,  "  I  had  found  the  magpie  on  its  nest ;  but  before 
twenty-four  hours  were  over,  weary  of  following  in  the 
track  of  foi-tune,  I  made  a  compromise  with  the  robber  for 
a  mere  trifle."  Independently  of  these  unauthorized 
reprints,  five  considerable  editions  were  sold  within  three 

*  Monitewr  Universelle,  28  Grerminal,  An  X.  (April  18,  1802.) 


01  THE  "GENIUS  OF  CHRISTIANITY." 

years,  and  the  work  was  translated  into  English,*  German, 
Dutch,  Spanish,  Italian,  and  Russian. 

The  Genius  of  Christiaiiity  had  been  dedicated  to  Napo- 
leon, who  at  that  time  appeared  to  Chateaubriand  to  be 
"  one  of  those  men  whom  Providence,  when  weary  of 
punishing  the  crimes  of  a  people,  sends  to  it,  in  token  of 
reconciliation."  This  dedication,  and  the  interest  excited 
by  the  book,  led  to  an  interview  between  the  First  Consul 
and  the  future  author  of  the  pamphlet,  Be  Buonaparte  et 
des  Bourbons. 

"  After  the  adoption  of  the  Concordat  by  the  Legislative 
Body  in  1802,  Lucien,  then  Minister  of  the  Interior,  gave  an 
entertainment  to  his  brother.  I  was  invited,  ....  and 
was  in  the  gallery  when  Napoleon  entered ;  he  made  a 
favourable  impression  on  me.  I  had  never  before  seen 
him,  except  at  a  distance.  His  smile  was  pleasing  and 
attractive ;  his  eye  most  striking,  especially  from  the  man- 
ner in  which  it  was  set  beneath  his  eyebrows,  and  his  calm, 
thoughtful  forehead.  He  had  not  yet  acquired  anything 
charlatanical  in  his  glance  ;  there  was  nothing  theatrical  or 

•  It  may  deserve  to  be  mentioned,  that  this  Englisli  translation, — the 
title  of  which  runs.  The  Beauties  of  Christianity,  by  F.  A.  de  Chateau- 
briand. Translated  from  the  French  by  F.  Shoberl ;  with  a  Preface  and  Notet 
by  the  Rev.  H.  Kett, — is  disfigured  by  a  dishonest  practice,  which  is  but 
too  common,  under  more  or  less  disguise,  and  which  cannot  be  too  much 
reprobated.  With  singular  temerity,  it  is  avowed,  in  the  prefece — as 
though  the  fact  were  a  reconmiendation — that,  "to  render  the  work 
more  agreeable  to  the  Protestant  reader,  a  few  chapters  and  paragraphs, 
relative  to  the  tenets  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  are  omitted,  and  a  few 
paragraphs  are  softened." — (Preface,  pp.  xvii,  xviii.)  In  the  same  pre- 
face, a  criticism  on  the  work,  by  "Watson,  Bishop  of  Llandaff,  is  thus 
quoted : — "  This  work  is  not  calculated  for  the  instruction  of  philo- 
sophers, but  it  will  enlarge  the  views  of  the  ignorant,  it  will  arrest  the 
attention  of  the  thoughtless,  and  it  will  give  an  impulse  to  the  piety  of 
sober-minded  men.  There  are  passages  in  it  which  emulate  the  elo- 
quence of  Bossuet." 


CHATEAUBRIAND  AND  NAPOLEON.  65 

affected  in  his  manner.  A  prodigious  imasrination  animated     chateau- 

,,,...  Ill  1  briand's   first 

this  cold  pohtician  ;  he  never  could  have  been  what  he  was,  interview 
had  not  the  Muse  been  there ;  Reason  accomplished  that  NapoLon. 
which  the  poet's  thought  conceived.  Every  man  who  per- 
forms great  things  in  the  course  of  his  life,  must  always  be 
compounded  of  two  natures  ;  for  he  must  be  capable  both 
of  inspiration  and  of  action ;  the  one  conceives,  the  other 
accomplishes. 

"  Napoleon  perceived  and  recognised  me  :  by  what  out- 
ward sign  he  can  have  guessed  who  I  was,  I  cannot 
imagine.  When  he  advanced  towards  me,  none  knew 
of  whom  he  was  in  search,  and  the  ranks  opened  on  every 
side  to  receive  him ;  every  one  seemed  to  hope  that  the 
Consul  would  stop  before  him.  He  appeared  to  feel  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  impatience  at  these  mistakes.  I  drew  back 
behind  my  neighbours.  Napoleon  suddenly  raised  his  voice, 
and,  addressing  me,  said,  '  Monsieur  de  Chateaubriand !' 

**  I  remained  standing  alone  before  him,  for  the  crowd 
had  retired  and  quickly  re-formed  in  a  circle,  around  the 
interlocutors.  Napoleon  accosted  me  with  perfect  sim- 
plicity, without  paying  me  any  compliments,  without 
wasting  time  on  indifferent  questions ;  without  preamble 
he  spoke  to  me  at  once  of  Egypt  and  of  the  Arabs,  as  if  I 
had  been  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  him,  and  as  if  we  were 
only  continuing  a  conversation  which  had  been  already 
commenced  between  us. 

" '  I  have  been  always  struck,'  he  said,  '  when  I  saw  the 
Sheikhs  falling  on  their  knees  in  the  midst  of  the  desert, 
turning  towards  the  east,  and  touching  the  sand  with  their 
foreheads  ;  what  was  this  unknown  thing  which  they  adore 
towards  the  east?' 

"  Napoleon  then  interrupted  himself,  and,  without  any 
transition,  passed  abruptly  to  another  idea.     '  Christianity  ! 

5 


66       CHATEAUBRIAND  AND  NAPOLEON. 

the  ideologists  have  wanted  to  make  it  a  mere  astronomical 
system ;  but  even  should  they  succeed,  do  they  think  to 
persuade  me  that  Christianity  is  a  small  thing  ?  If  Chris- 
tianity is  only  an  allegory  of  the  movement  of  the  spheres, 
the  geometry  of  the  stars,  the  esprits  forts  may  do  their 
utmost,  but,  in  spite  of  themselves,  they  cannot  help  yet 
leaving  sufficient  greatness  to  the  " infdme"  * 

"  Napoleon  quickly  left  me.  Like  Job,  'I  felt  as  though, 
in  the  night,  a  spirit  had  passed  before  me ;  the  hair  of  my 
flesh  stood  up.  It  stood  still,  but  I  could  not  discern  the 
form  thereof :  an  image  was  before  mine  eyes,  and  I  heard 
a  voice.'  My  days  have  been  a  succession  of  visions : 
heaven  and  hell  have  been  continually  opened  above  my  head 
and  beneath  my  feet,  but  I  have  never  had  time  to  fathom 
either  their  darkness  or  their  light.  A  single  time,  on  the 
shores  of  the  two  worlds,  I  met  the  man  of  the  past  age  and 
the  man  of  the  present — Washington  and  Napoleon.  I 
conversed  a  moment  with  both ;  both  sent  me  back  into 
my  solitude  ;  the  first  with  a  benevolent  and  kindly  wish,  the 
second  by  a  crime. 

"  I  remarked,  that  as  Napoleon  walked  about  amongst 
the  crowd,  he  cast  upon  me  a  much  more  scrutinizing 
glance  than  he  had  done  when  he  was  speaking  to  me.  I 
also  followed  him  with  my  eyes — 

'  Clii  h  quel  grande,  che  non  par  che  cttri 
L'incendio  ? ' " 

Immediately  after  this  interview.  Napoleon  determined 
to  send  Chateaubriand  to  Rome,  as  Secretary  of  Legation 
to  Cardinal  Fesch,  then  Ambassador  to  the  Holy  See.  It 
was  during  this  residence  in  the  Ftemal  City  that  Chateau- 
briand conceived  the  plan — and  perhaps  began  the  execu- 
tion— of  the  work  which  is  usually  regarded  as  his 
masterpiece,  Zes  Martyrs.     But  not  even  literature  was 


EXECUTION  OF  D'ENGHIEN,  AND  WHAT  FOLLOWED.  67 

suffered  to  interfere  with  the  duties  of  his  office,  which  he 
so  discharged  as  to  win  the  then  coveted  approbation  of 
him,  who  abeady,  in  the  eyes  of  the  multitude,  was  "  the 
foremost  man  of  all  the  earth." 

Two  years  afterwards,  having  returned  from  the  Roman 
embassy,  Chateaubriand  was  named  Minister  Plenipotentiary    chateau- 
in  the  Valais.     But  it  was  on  the  eve  of  that  sinister  day,  llo^'Ir'the 
on  which  the  last  of  the  Condes  was  shot  in  the  ditch  of    ^^*"'°' 

Enghien,  and 

Vincennes,  "  within,"  to  use  Chateaubriand's  own  words,  ws  resigna. 
"four  paces  of  the  oak  beneath  which  Saint  Lewis  had  embassy. 
dispensed  justice."  On  the  evening  of  that  day,  whilst  all 
mouths  were  sealed  with  fear  and  stupor,  Chateaubriand 
sent  in  his  resignation.  Napoleon  has  himself  recorded  the 
deep  impression  produced  upon  him  by  this  manly  and 
noble  protest.  In  recounting  the  circumstances  in  his 
Memoirs,  Chateaubriand  has  very  naturally  entered  into  a 
somewhat  elaborate  discussion  on  the  much-vexed  question 
— Who  are  the  persons  on  whom  the  chief  guilt  of  this 
murder  should  rest  ?  His  long  examination  results  in  the 
conclusion  that  Talleyrand  was  the  main  culprit ;  but  that 
Napoleon  himself  cannot  be  acquitted  of  personal  respon- 
sibility for  the  crime.  Talleyrand,  he  says,  suggested,  and 
Napoleon  adopted  it.  Chateaubriand  did  not — like  some 
others — wait  for  the  lion^s  decrepitude,  before  he  became 
the  lion's  assailant.  His  condemnation  of  the  crime  was 
most  loudly  uttered  when  its  authors  were  still  in  the  high 
places  of  power. 

After  his  withdrawal  from  the  diplomatic  service  of  the 
Empire,  Chateaubriand  lived  a  very  retired  life,  partly  in 
Paris,  and  partly  in  the  south  of  France,  diversified,  how- 
ever, by  a  brief  tour  in  Switzerland.  In  1806,  he  carried 
into  execution  a  long-cherished  project  of  Eastern  travel. 


68        CHATEAUBRIAND  ENTERS  THE  ACADEMY. 

Having  visited  Greece,  Constantinople,  Syria,  and  the  Holy 
Land — a  tour  so  charmingly  described  in  the  Itineraire 
de  Paris  a  Jerusalem — he  returned  to  Egypt,  the  old 
Punic  land,  and  Spain.  He  may  be  said  to  have  been  one 
of  the  last  persons  who  visited  the  Turkish  Empire,  whilst 
it  still  retained  all  its  ancient  forms  and  customs,  and 
something  of  its  ancient  vigour.  The  revolutions  he  had 
seemed  to  leave  behind  him  soon  extended  even  to  Greece, 
to  Syria,  and  to  Egypt. 

His  return  to  his  country  was  soon  embittered  by  a  pain- 
ful bereavement,  under  circumstances  very  similar  to  those 
which  marked  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Enghien,  devoid, 
however,  of  the  guilt  which  must  always  attach  to  that 
The  cxccu-  event.  Armand  de  Chateaubriand,  who  was  shot  on  the 
manddccha-  plalu  of  Grcnclle,  in  March,  1809,  had  been  taken  in 
teaubniuid.  f|j^gj.j^j^^  conspiracy  against  the  established  government  of 
France.  After  incessant  but  fruitless  efforts  to  save  his 
cousin's  life,  our  author  wished,  on  the  day  of  execution, 
to  accompany  his  old  comrade  in  the  **Army  of  the 
Princes,"  to  his  last  battle-field.  He  could  find  no  carriage, 
and  had  to  run  on  foot  to  the  mournful  scene,  where  he 
arrived  a  moment  too  late  ; — Armand  had  been  already  shot 
against  the  wall  of  Paris.  "  When  I  walk,"  he  says — writing 
in  1839  —  "on  the  Boulevard  of  the  plain  of  Grenelle, 
I  pause  to  look  at  the  mark  of  the  bullet  still  visible  on 
the  wall." 

Chateaubriand's  election  into  the  Academy,  as  the  suc- 
cessor of  Ch^nier,  occurred  in  the  spring  of  1811.     He 
was  reluctant,  he  says,  to  ofler  himself,  being  convinced 
that  his  election  would  involve  him  in  new  conflict  with 
Chateau-     thc   imperial   government.     When    Mme.    de   Vintimille 
roMorciiir*  took   the   candidate   to    pay    his    visit    to   Morellet,    the 


HIS  PROPOSED  SPEECH  ON  RECEPTION.         69 

"  Father  of  the  Academy,"  they  found  the  old  Abbe 
asleep  in  his  library,  beside  a  copy  of  the  Itineraire  de 
Paris  a  Jerusalem,  which  had  dropped  from  his  hands. 
Suddenly  awakened  by  the  announcement  of  his  visitor,  he 
started  up  with  the  exclamation,  "  There  are  some  long- 
spun passages  "  {II  y  a  des  longueurs).  I  told  him,  says 
the  author,  that  I  saw  it  plainly,  and  would  abridge 
them  in  a  new  edition.  "  He  promised  me  his  vote,  not- 
withstanding Atala?^  Morellet  had  criticised  Atala,  as 
well  as  the  Itineraire,  and  with  more  severity. 

Chateaubriand's  election  had  been  carried  after  opposi- 
tion, but  by  a  large  majority,  including  men  of  very  dif- 
ferent opinions.  When  his  intended  address  came  before 
the  official  persons,  his  supporters  were  in  consternation. 
The  discourse  is  a  notable  example  both  of  the  author's  his  pro- 
strength  and  of  his  weakness.  Admirable  for  its  defence  ^^^  ^"'^^ 
of  free  thought,  in  a  strain  which  the  consciousness  of  caption  i..  the 

°      \  .  ,        .  Academy. 

personal  peril  raised  at  times  from  rhetoric  into  true  elo- 
quence, it  is  marvellous  for  its  Cimmerian  darkness  on  a 
topic  which  was  yet  perpetually  in  Chateaubriand's  mouth. 
He  wields  prose  like  a  poet  when  he  asserts  the  impossibility 
of  isolating  literature  from  the  social  interests  of  men, 
without  emasculating  it.  When  he  comes  to  enforce  the 
correlative  truth  that  writers,  individually,  ought  rather  to 
feel  proud  of  obscurity,  than  to  seek  personal  fame — as 
some  had  done — by  betraying  their  country,  he  sinks 
into  platitudes,  and  then  points  his  argument  by  adducing 
as  an  example,  the  conduct,  at  "  a  time  of  public  calamity,'* 
of  John  Milton. 

An  English  reader  of  this  generation,  may  well  pause,  in 
momentary  amazement,  to  think  if  colourable  occasion  for 
such  a  fancy  could,  by  chance,  have  arisen  from  any  mis- 
taken incident  of  the  life  of  the  poet,  who,  at  a  time  of 


Chateau- 
briand   on 


70  A  SCENE  AT  SAINT  CLOUD. 

unqiiestionable  public  calamity,  sat  in  that  humble  tene- 
ment in  Artillery  Walk — 

"  Darkness  before,  and  danger's  voice  behind,"* 

**'^'o"-  intent  on  the  composition  of  Paradise  Lost.  But,  if  he 
reads  on,  for  another  sentence  or  two,  he  finds  that  the 
"time  of  public  calamity"  was  not  the  time  of  Charles 
II— when  the  Portsmouths  and  the  Buckinghams  were  in 
their  glory,  and  the  Clarendons  in  exile — but  the  time  of 
Vane,  Blake,  and  Cromwell ;  and  that  Milton,  as  some 
atonement  "for  the  miseries  he  had  brought  upon  his 
country,"  assigned  to  the  powers  infernal,  depicted  in  his 
great  poem,  "  the  torments,  the  passions,  and  the  remorse, 
of  the  men  of  whose  fury  he  had  himself  partaken." 

It  was  not  destined  that  a  Parisian  audience  should 
listen  to  this  luminous  utterance  on  English  literature. 
After  much  discussion,  and  many  conflicting  opinions,  the 
historian  Darn,  a  member  of  the  Academy,  carried  the  MS. 

A  scene  at  ^q  NapoleoH,  w  ho  ttot  ottlv  Tcad  it,  but  revised  it.    All  that 

Saint     Cloud  .  J  ' 

-Napoleon  T  was  Said  of  the  folly  of  the  attempt  to  sever  literature  from 
CTitL. '  ^"^^  affairs ;  all  that  was  said  of  Milton ;  and  many  of  the  re- 
marks on  Chenier,  he  struck  out.  He  then  summoned 
Dam  to  his  presence.  Passing  through  an  antichamber, 
in  which  many  dignitaries  of  the  Empire  were  assembled, 
the  Academician  found  the  Emperor  with  Chateaubriand's 
MS.  in  his  hand.  Wliat  followed  was  a  monologue, 
uttered,  as  Darn  tells  us,  partly  in  a  quiet  and  partly  in  a 
resounding  voice  : — "  Had  this  speech  been  delivered  in  its 
original  form,*'  said  Napoleon,   "  I  would  have  shut  up  the 

*  "  Tet  not  alone,  nor  helpless  to  repel 

Sad  thoughts ;  for,  from  above  the  starry  sphere. 
Come  secrets,  whispered  nightly  to  his  ear ; 
And  the  pure  spirit  of  celestial  light 
Shines  through  his  soul, — that  he  may  see  and  tell 
Of  things  invisible  to  mortal  sight." 


A  SCENE  AT  SAINT  CLOUD.  71 

Institute.  I  cannot  tolerate  this  sort  of  thing.  I  will 
suffer  neither  these  indiscreet  reminiscences,  nor  these  re- 
proaches of  the  past,  nor  this  tacit  censure  of  the  present, 
although  mixed  with  praise.  If  the  author  were  here, 
before  me,  I  would  say  to  him  :  You,  sir,  are  not  of  this 
country.  Your  admiration  and  your  desires  are  elsewhere. 
You  comprehend  neither  my  acts  nor  my  intentions.  Well, 
if  you  are  ill  at  ease  in  France,  leave  it.  We  do  not  under- 
stand one  another,  and  it  is  I  who  am  master  here.  You  do 
not  appreciate  my  work,  and,  w^ere  I  to  permit  you,  you 
would  spoil  it.  Depart,  sir,  cross  the  frontier.  Leave 
France  in  peace  and  unity,  under  the  Government  which 
it  needs.''  The  more  emphatic  words  of  this  outburst 
were  heard  in  the  antichamber.  When  Daru  again 
passed  through,  he  was,  to  his  amazement,  received  with 
icy  coldness.  His  greetings  met  averted  eyes.  His  ques- 
tions brought  scarcely  audible  replies.  The  courtiers  were 
under  the  impression  that  it  was  he,  himself,  who  had  just 
undergone  sentence  of  transportation. 

Chateaubriand's  Discourse,  with  its  imperial  corrections, 
was,  of  course,  never  delivered.  But  it  was  printed,  by 
imperial  authority,  for  circulation  in  the  country.  There 
was  a  threat  that,  unless  he  composed  another  address,  his 
election  would  be  annulled.  But  ultimately,  and  chiefly,  as 
it  seems,  by  the  influence  of  Mme.  Regnauld  (de  Saint  Jean 
d'Angely),  the  reception  took  place,  without  any  formal 
oration  at  all.  "  The  women  of  that  day,"  says  Chateau- 
briand, very  characteristically,  "interposed  their  beauty 
between  power  and  evil  fortune." 

The  remaining  years  of  the  Empire  were  chiefly  spent  by 
Chateaubriand  in  literary  employments ;  with  the  close  of 
the  Empire  his  literary  career  may  be  said  to  have  termi- 
nated, and  his  active  career  as  a  statesman  to  have  begun. 


72  CHATEAUBRIAND  IN  OFFICE. 

His  writings  under  the  Restoration  were  almost  exclusively 
political.  They  commenced  with  the  famous  tract — Be 
Buonaparte  et  des  Bourbons. 

This  political  manifesto  is  now  deservedly  forgotten.  It 
was  remarkable  for  ability,  but  still  more  remarkable  for 
bitter  party  spirit.  An  eminent  critic,  by  no  means  unfa- 
vourably disposed  towards  Chateaubriand,  has  characterised 
it  as  tlie  "  most  virulent  libel  that  was  ever  written."  But 
this  is  the  less  surprising,  inasmuch  as,  although  it  was 
composed  within  hearing  of  the  cannonade  of  the  Allies,  it 
was  none  the  less  at  the  peril  of  the  author's  life ;  for  even 
then,  at  times,  the  chances  of  war  seemed  to  favoiu*  Napoleon. 
Chateau.  Of  Chatcaubriand's  career  as  the  Diplomatist  and  the 
"fflce.  Minister  of  the  Restoration,  it  is  not  necessary  to  say  much. 
His  personal  sympathies,  and  his  intense  hatred  of  the  sys- 
tem of  the  Empire,  led  him  at  times  into  the  ranks  of  the 
most  bigoted  and  outrageous  of  "  the  supporters  of  the  throne 
and  the  altar."  But  to  two  grand  principles  he  was  always 
faithful.  The  liberty  of  the  press,  and  the  integrity  of 
representative  government,  ever  found  in  him  a  faithful 
and  watchful  defender.  With  reference  to  these  principles, 
at  least,  he  might  honestly  assert  that  "the  goals  of  his 
political  life  had  always  been  the  same.*' 

On  the  accession  tQ  power  of  the  administration  of  M.  de 
Villele,  Chateaubriand  was  sent  as  ambassador,  first  to 
Berlin  and  afterwards  to  London.  In  September,  1822, 
he  crossed  the  Alps  to  represent  France  at  the  Congress  of 
Verona.  At  this  council  of  kings  he  pleaded,  with  very 
small  success,  the  cause  of  the  Greeks,  and  defended, 
with  better  fortune,  what  he  deemed  to  be  French  interests 
in  the  complicated  affairs  of  Spain. 
The  Spanish  Jt  has  bccu  Said  that  it  was  the  Congress  of  Verona 
which  forced  the  Spanish  war  upon  M.  de  Villele,  and 


war. 


HIS  DEFENCE  OF  THE  SPANISH  WAR.  73 

M.  de  Villele  who  thrust  it  upon  Chateaubriand,  when  he 
succeeded  M.  de  Montmorency  as  minister  of  foreign 
affairs.  Chateaubriand's  own  account  of  the  matter,  how- 
ever, in  his  H'ktory  of  the  Veronese  Congress,  is  very 
different ;  he  there  avows  that  he  advocated  the  war,  and 
influenced  the  decision  of  the  Congress.  And  it  is  thus 
that  he  defends  the  course  that  he  adopted  -. — "  Let  people 
imagine  to  themselves  Ferdinand  reigning,  reasonably,  at 
Madrid,  under  the  rod  of  France  \sous  la  verge  de  la  France\ 
our  southern  frontier  in  safety,  Iberia  no  longer  able  to  let 
England  and  Austria  loose  upon  us ;  let  them  figure  to 
themselves  two  or  three  Bourbon  monarchies  in  America, 
forming,  for  our  advantage,  a  counterpoise  to  the  commer- 
cial influence  of  the  United  States  and  of  Great  Britain ;  let 
them  imagine  our  cabinet  powerful  enough  to  insist  upon 
a  modification  of  the  treaties  of  Vienna ;  our  ancient  fron- 
tier recovered,  thrust  back,  extended  into  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, into  our  old  Germanic  departments ;  and  then  let 
them  say  whether  for  such  results  the  Spanish  war  was  not 
rightly  undertaken."* 

It  were  idle  to  refute  so  silly  a  piece  of  rhodomontade. 
The  Spanish  war  was  both  needless  and  unjust.  It  had 
neither  a  legitimate  beginning  nor  an  avowable  object. 
Yet  this  weak  and  foolish  defence  of  it  came  from  a  man 
who,  in  other  days,  had  fought  gallantly  and  suffered  mag- 
nanimously on  the  side  of  constitutional  liberty  against 
triumphant  despotism, — and  from  a  Minister  who  while 
there  was  yet  time  to  pause  upon  the  brink,  had  been  dis- 
tinctly warned  by  a  wiser  Statesman  than  himself  of  the 
inevitable  results. f 

*  Congrhs  de  Verone,  (1838,)  torn,  ii,  p.  338. 

t  See  the  Despatches  of  Canning  to  Chateaubriand,  Jan.  21  and  27, 
1823.     Congres  de  Verotie,  tona.  i,  pp.  330 — 349. 


briand  in  op 
position 


74  CHATEAUBRIAND  IN  OPPOSITION. 

But  the  manly  counsels  of  Canning  were  offered  in  vain ; 
and  the  invasion  of  Spain  by  the  contemptible  Duke  of 
Angouleme  remains  an  indelible  stain  on  the  political  life 
of  Chateaubriand. 
Chateau-  Despitc  this  momentary  and  unfortunate  union  with  the 
ultra-royalist  faction,  Chateaubriand  was  soon  compelled  to 
resume  his  natural  attitude  of  antagonism  to  it.  And  he 
fought  with  his  usual  vigour.  In  the  Journal  des  Debats, 
and  elsewhere,  nearly  all  the  remaining  measiu'es  of  the 
administration  of  Vill^le  were  riddled  by  his  heavy  can- 
nonade. The  reduction  of  the  dividends — the  censorship 
of  the  press — the  sacrilege  bill — the  dissolution  of  the 
National  Guard — were  all  under  fire  in  their  turn.  At 
length  the  Villele  Ministry  was  forced  to  surrender. 

Under  that  of  M.  de  Martignac,  which  succeeded,  M.  de 
Chateaubriand  accepted  the  embassy  to  Rome,  and  took 
an  active  part  in  managing  the  conclave  which  placed 
Cardinal  Annibale  della  Genga  (Leo  XII)  as  the  successor 
of  Pius  VII  on  the  pontifical  throne.  He  strenuously 
opposed  the  measures  which  marked  the  fatal  entrance  into 
power  of  the  Polignac  faction,  and  on  learning  its  determi- 
nation to  issue  the  famous  "  Ordinances,''  he  gave  in  his 
resignation.  During  the  three  days  of  July,  he  was  at 
Dieppe.  Immediately  on  being  apprised  of  the  real  cha- 
racter of  the  events  which  were  taking  place,  he  hastened 
to  Paris.  When  he  crossed  the  barricades  on  his  way  to 
the  Chamber  of  Peers,  he  was  recognised  by  the  populace ; 
and  the  men  who  had  just  expelled  the  elder  Bourbons, 
bore  aloft  in  triumph  their  tried  and  faithfid  servant,  just 
as  he  was  about  to  make  a  final  and  fruitless  effort  for  the 
race  which  had  rewarded  his  zealous  attachment  with 
disgrace  and  contumely. 

It  has   been   pithily   said,   that   from  1814  to    1825, 


THE  MEMOIBS  FBOM  BETOKD  THE  GRAVE.      75 

Chateaubriand  fought  for  the  past  against  the  future;  that 
from  1825  to  1830,  he  enhsted  under  the  flag  of  the  future 
against  the  past;  and  that  after  1830,  he  laboured  to 
solder,  after  his  fashion,  the  past  and  the  future  together ; 
to  graft,  as  it  were,  a  democratic  shoot  upon  a  Bourbon 
stock ;  "  to  fuse  together  Jacques  Bonhomme  and  Henry  V." 
What  is  likely  to  come  of  such  attempts  at  fusion  is  now 
an  old  tale. 

The  composition  of  the  Memoires  d'outre  tombe,  was    composition 

i  of    the    Me- 

begun  in  the  retirement  of  a  little  country-house,  near  the  mow,  from 
village  of  Aulnay,  in  1811,  and  continued  at  Dieppe  in  the  Gravt. 
following  year,  M.  de  Chateaubriand  having  been  peremp- 
torily ordered  to  quit  Paris  by  the  Prefect  of  Police,  early 
in  the  autumn  of  1812.  The  author's  political  employ- 
ments prevented  their  resumption — save  in  a  fragment  or 
two — until  the  period  of  his  embassy  to  Berlin  in  1821. 
In  that  city,  and  in  London  (whither,  as  we  have  seen,  he 
also  went  as  ambassador),  in  1822,  a  considerable  portion 
of  the  book  was  written.  From  1822,  when  it  had  reached 
about  one  third  of  its  present  extent,  until  1837,  it  appears 
to  have  been  entirely  suspended.  The  remainder  of  the 
work  was  written  in  1837  and  subsequent  years — with  the 
exception,  perhaps,  of  the  long  and  remarkable  episode  re- 
specting Napoleon,  the  composition  of  which  bears  no  date. 
M.  de  St.  Beuve  (in  his  Critiques  et  Portraits  Litteraires) 
has  given  a  lively  description  of  the  interest  excited  amongst 
the  brilliant  auditories  assembled  at  the  Abbaye-aux-bois, 
in  1834,  by  the  readings  of  the  Memoires  d'outre  tombe,  in 
their  earlier  portions,  as  they  were  composed.     The  later  Po»thumou9 

1  1  T/T'  i-  c  1  Memoirs. 

volumes  were  read  to  a  very  different  audience  from  that  of 
the  Abbaye-aux-bois,  and  under  altered  circumstances. 
Those  final  readings  occurred  but  a  short  while  before  the 


The    read- 
ing   of    the 


76     THE  MEMOIRS  FROM  BETOKD  THE  GRAVE. 

Revolution  of  February.  That  startling  thunder-clap  sur- 
prised the  remaining  hearers  of  the  "  old  man,  eloquent," 
into  quite  other  pursuits  than  literary  recitations.  Their 
numbers  had  been  already  diminished  by  death.  And  the 
eventful  career  of  the  writer  himself  closed  in  the  same 
memorable  year. 

Perhaps,  had  Chateaubriand  writtenHess  ;  had  he  acted, 
occasionally,  on  the  Horatian* precept,  his  works  would  be 
likely  to  enjoy  a  longer  existence  than  seems  now  before 
them.  But  it  may,  certainly,  be  said  of  him,  in  the 
words  of  a  fellow-academician  of  the  next  generation,  al- 
though in  a  different  sense  from  that  in  which  those  words 
were  written  : — "  The  man's  life  will "  (for  some  time  to 
come,  at  least)  "  get  his  books  a  reading,"  notwithstanding 
their  frequent  puffy  hyperboles  and  flimsy  sentimentalities. 


NAPOLEON  AND  THE  POETS.  tl 


vnlsion        of 
feeling       to- 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

NAPOLEON     AND     THE     POETS. THE     ACADEMICIANS     DUCIS 

AND     LEMERCIER, THE    POETRY-PRIZE     OF    THE     BELLE 

POULE    EXPEDITION. THE  ACADEMY  UNDER  THE   RESTO- 
RATION.  THE    "LAW    OF    JUSTICE    AND  LOVE." 

The  relations  between  the  Emperor  and  the  Second  Class 
of  the  Institute  were  never  cordial.    The  "  Ideologists"  were 
his  persistent  though  not  always  his  open  opponents.     The 
poets  stood  almost  equally  aloof.     Both  Ducis  and  Lemer- 
cier  had  been  captivated,  for  awhile,  by  the  glory  of  the 
Consulate.     Ducis,  like  Chateaubriand,  had  been  alienated    Duds' 
by  the  murder  of  the  Duke  of  Enghien.  "  He  has  deceived 
me,  I  thought  him  a  Cincinnatus,  but  he  is  despotism  incar-  J'^^  ^""^ 
nate."     Such  was  the  feeling  to  which  is  owing  the  pun- 
gent although  one-sided  apologue,  TJne  promenade  mo  Bois 
de  Satori.    Delille,  who  had  refused  to  write  a  "  Hymn  to 
the  Supreme  Being,"  at  the  menacing  request  of  Robes- 
pierre,  resisted  the  splendid  and  reiterated  overtures  of 
Napoleon.     Lemercier,  who  from  1795  to  the  eve  of  the 
Empire,   had   been   on   the   most    intimate    terms    with 
Napoleon,  and  who  to  the  end  of  his  long  life  was  wont  to    Lemerder's 
talk  of  "  Mon  ami,  le  Premier  Consul,'*  once,  with  difficulty,  ^^J^'^^^ 
brought  himself  to  write  some  verses  on  the  marriage  with  *«^'»*''*  *°»- 

.  .  ...  mosity    to- 

Maria  Louisa.     At  that  date,  his  nomination  to  the  Aca-  wards  Nape 
demy  had  just  occurred.     Shortly  afterwards,  the  imperial  ""' 
censorship  suppressed  his  tragedy  of  Camillus^  in  which 


78     THE  "EETURN  OF  THE  ASHES  OF  NAPOLEON." 

the  military  capacity  and  courage  of  the  hero  is  very 
markedly  united  with  an  absolute  submission  to  the  laws. 
Within  a  few  days  of  that  suppression,  the  Institute  had  to 
wait  upon  the  Emperor,  on  some  state  occasion.  As  soon 
as  Napoleon  saw  Lemercier,  he  put  to  him  the  question, — 
"  Well,  M.  Lemercier,  when  will  you  give  us  a  good 
tragedy?"  The  poet  looked  intently  at  the  man  whose 
fortunes  were  then  at  their  height, — unshaken,  as  yet, 
by  the  campaign  of  1812, — and  replied,  "  Soon.  /  am 
waiting y  Eight  years  earlier,  he  had  said  to  the  First 
Consul,  "  You  are  amusing  youreelf  with  making  the  bed 
of  the  Bourbons.  I  foretell  you  that  you  will  not  lie  in  it 
ten  years."  The  conviction  seems  to  have  remained  with 
him  amidst  the  quick-succeeding  marvels  which  had  daz- 
zled almost  all  eyes.  It  is  less  to  his  honour  that,  although 
he  survived  the  expedition  of  the  Belle  Poule,  he  never 
learnt,  during  that  long  interval,  to  discriminate  between 
the  great  and  the  petty  elements  of  Napoleon's  character. 
He  saw  quickly  enough  what  was  mean,  despicable,  and 
transient.  He  never  perceived  what  was  grand  and  en- 
during. Only  two  days  before  his  own  death  he  dragged 
himself  to  the  Louvre,  that  he  might  give  a  vote  against 
The  Poetry,  thc  choicc,  for    thc  poetry-theme  of  the    year,  of  "  The 

Prize  on  the  /•       /  /  •»  > 

return  to  Tetum  to  Francc  of  the  Ashes  of  Napoleon. '  Lemercier 
Tody°of  ^  had  sat  in  the  Gallery  of  the  Convention,  day  after  day. 
Napoleon.  aQji^jg^  ^hc  kuitting-womcu,  "to  see  the  laws  outlawed," 
until  the  sights  that  he  had  there  looked  upon  wrought 
on  his  very  features  an  expression  almost  of  idiocy.*  But 
it  seems  never  to  have  occurred  to  him  that  the  man  who 
had,  at  least,  dethroned  anarchy,  had  done  a  service  to 

*  This  curious  circumstance  has  been  recorded  by  a  contemporary. 
So  striking  was  the  reflection  on  his  features  of  the  horror  in  his 
mind,  that  some  of  the  regular  attendants  in  that  gallery  thought  him 
really  an  idiot,  with  a  mania  for  speeches. 


EESTORATION  OF  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY.       79 

France,  which  no  subsequent  misdoings  can  justly  oblite- 
rate from  memory. 

Lemercier  lived  long  enough  to  observe  that  revulsion  of    Lemercier-s 
feeling  towards  Napoleon's  memory — amongst  men  of  thQ  more    v^go. 
poet's  own  class — in  which  he  could  not  share.     He  also  I»°orkg^*"^" 
lived  long  enough  to  survive  his  own  works.    Great  as  had 
been  their  influence  upon  his  immediate  contemporaries,  , 

they  lacked  that  savour  of  style  which  is  the  condition,  not 
only  of  immortality,  but  even  of  the  continued  esteem  of  a 
single  generation.  His  force  of  character — ^his  resolute 
independence  of  spirit — can  never  lose  their  charm.  These 
were  the  qualities  which  made  the  man  greater  than  the 
poet.  Lemercier  spoke  his  mind,  and  spoke  it  fully,  at  all 
epochs ;  alike,  whether  the  men  at  the  helm  were  friends 
or  foes;  whether  the  views  expressed  were  popular  or 
unpopular ;  and,  hence,  his  fate  was  pretty  much  the  same 
at  all  epochs.  The  Committee  of  Public  Safety  proscribed 
his  Levite  d'Ephraim.  The  National  Convention  suppressed 
his  Tartufe  Revolutionnaire.  Under  Napoleon's  censor- 
ship he  had  five  several  dramas  tabooed  from  the  stage. 
Under  the  censorship  of  Lewis  XVHI,  his  Demence  de 
Charles  VI  was  formally  condemned.  The  reader  of  the 
recently  published  autobiography — for  such  it  substantially 
is — of  Victor  Hugo,  will  remember  some  curious  parallel- 
isms in  the  otherwise  contrasted  careers  of  the  men  who 
sat  in  the  same  Academical  chair. 

The  second  reorganization  of  the  Institute,  under  the  ^^''^^u'e 
returned  Bourbons,  restored  the  old  statutes  and  the  old  Academy  by 

.  Lewis  XVIII. 

name  of  French  Academy,  but  struck,  for  a  time,  an  almost 
deadly  blow  at  its  honour.  The  names  of  "  Bonapartist " 
and  too  "liberal"  Academicians  were  indiscriminatingly 
struck  from  the  roll  by  a  royal  ordinance,  to  be  replaced, 


Fortunes 
and    conduct 
of  some  of  the 
excluded  Ach- 


80  "PURIFICATION"  OF  THE  ACADEMY. 

Atucks  on  for  the  most  part,  by  names  of  abbds,  bishops,  counts,  and 

its    indcpeo-  . 

dence.  dukcs,  Httlc  known  to  literature.  By  the  ultra-royalists, 
this  was  called  the  "  Purification  of  the  Academy."  Very 
fitly,  the  purification  was  begun  by  Foucli^,  and  completed 
by  Vaublanc.  Several  of  the  excluded  members  were 
driven  into  exile  and  penury.  Arnault,  for  example, 
was  not  suflered  to  rest,  even  in  Belgium,  but,  at  an  age 
when  repose  becomes  a  necessity,  was  driven  from  place  to 
place  by  the  Belgian  gendarmerie.  His  colleagues  honoured 

demicians.  themselvcs  by  subscribing,  both  individually  and  in  the 
name  of  the  Academy,  towards  an  edition  of  his  works. 
At  length,  in  1829,  he  resumed  his  seat.  Maury,  twice 
elected,  as  we  have  seen,  had  no  successor  to  commemorate 
his  singular  career.  Etienne  lived  to  re-enter  the  Academy, 
and  to  fill  a  conspicuous  place  in  it  for  many  years.  Garat, 
too,  was,  after  a  time,  advised  to  ofiFer  himself  as  candidate 
for  a  vacant  seat.  "  My  election,"  he  replied,  "  was 
indelible.  Whatever  may  have  been  decreed,  I  am,  and  I 
shall  be,  of  the  French  Academy  as  long  as  I  live.  When 
I  was  Home  Minister,  I  gathered  up  the  fragments  of  the 
Academy's  Dictioitary.  I  have  since  shared  in  its  discus- 
sions. And  if  I  thought  that  I  could  now  attend  without 
hindrance,  I  would  go  to-morrow,  and  take  my  seat  with 
my  colleagues."  Garat  must  have  felt  his  exclusion  the 
more  keenly,  inasmuch  as  he  had  always  been  a  little  of 
the  school  of  that  cautious  devotee  who,  we  are  told,  when 
he  was  building  a  fine  church  for  Divine  worship,  did  not 
forget  to  erect  a  small  chapel  for  the  arch-enemy  hard  by. 
An  extreme  prudence  had  not  saved  him  from  a  bitter 
humiliation. 

Attempted       ^his  attempt  to  compel  the  Academy  into  political  sub- 
anticipation         _  '■  *■  . 
of  the  ordi-  serviency  had  small  success.     Some  years,  indeed,  passed 

""ju^'"     without  any  open  colhsion  between  the  Government  and 


THE  "LAW  OF  JUSTICE  AND  LOVE."  81 

the  Institute.  But  in  1827,  M.  de  Peyronnet,  acting  under 
the  influence  of  the  Jesuits  of  Montrouge,  anticipated  the 
fatal  Ordinances  of  1880,  by  proposing  to  the  Chambers  a 
law  which  laid  new  fetters  on  the  press.  The  vigorous 
action  of  the  Academy  arrested  the  project,  even  after  its 
sanction  by  a  parhamentary  majority.  Charles  de  Lacretelle 
(although  he  then  held  the  office  of  Dramatic  Censor)  moved    ^°^'*  '"*' 

*-'  _  '  sistanceofthe 

the  Academy  to  adopt  an  energetic  protest  against  a  French  Aca- 
measure  which,  he  said,  "  cast  disgrace  on  literature,  and  punishment. 
would  be  politically  disastrous."  The  proposal  was,  with 
equal  warmth,  supported  by  Chateaubriand,  by  Count  de 
Segur,  by  Villemain,  and  by  Lemercier.  It  was  opposed 
by  La  Place  and  by  Cuvier.  The  King  refused  to  receive 
the  protest,  but  it  had  done  its  work.  Peyronnet  replied 
to  the  Academy  by  an  article  in  the  Moniteur,  in  which  he 
used  the  words  "  A  law  of  Justice  and  Love,"  and  thus 
gave  to  the  abortive  Ordinance  its  famous  nickname.  The 
words  were  borrowed  from  "Les  Soirees  de  St.  Petersbourff" 
and  no  plagiarism  was  ever  less  felicitous.  Every  Acade- 
mician who  had  voted  for  the  protest,  and  who  held  any 
office  under  the  Crown,  was  immediately  dismissed.  Lacre- 
telle lost  his  office  of  Examiner  of  Plays ;  Villemain,  his 
Mastership  of  Requests ;  Michaud,  his  Readership  to  the 
King.  The  public  sympathy  with  the  disgraced  Academi- 
cians was  testified  in  many  ways,  and  the  joy  at  the  defeat 
of  the  "  Law  of  Justice  and  Love,"  was  shown  by  the 
illumination  of  Paris.  This  was  the  overture  to  the  terrible 
drama  of  1830. 


82     STRIFE  OF  CLASSICISTS  AND  ROMANTICISTS, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

STRIFE  OF  CLASSICISTS  AND  ROMANTICISTS. THE  ACA- 
DEMIC CANDIDATURES  OF  CASIMIR  DE  LA  VIGNE  AND 
OF  VICTOR   HUGO. 

Many   of  the  receptions   during   the   reign   of  Lewis 
Philip  present  striking  iHustrations  of  literary  history,  and 
of  the  varying  currents  of  opinion.     I  pass  over  them  all, 
save  three. 
The  early       Like  SO  many  other  of  the  men  who  have  conspicuously 
cagimir'dc  la  ^ddcd  to  thc  Acadcmy's  fame,  Casimir  De  La  Vigne  early 
v.gne.         ^j.jgj  j^jj,  strength  in  the   annual   competitions.     He  re- 
peatedly obtained  the  honour  of  the  "  Accessit,"  but  it  was 
not  his  fortune  to  win  a  prize.     On  one  occasion  the  medal 
was  almost  in  his  grasp.     But  the  Academy  had  said — 
"  Study  creates  happiness  under  all  the  varied  circumstances 
of  human  life^    The  young  poet  turned  the  assertion  into 
a  query — "  Does  study  create  happiness,  8fc.  ?*'    The  poem 
was  warmly  and  desei*vedly  applauded,  and  seemed  sure  of 
the  prize.     An  Academical  martinet,  however,  contended 
that  by  their  rules  the  liberty  taken  with  the  programme 
was  fatal  to  its  claims,  and  his  opinion  prevailed.     Thence- 
forth the  poet  addressed  himself  to  the  task  of  making  his 
way  into  the  Academy  by  the  triumphs  of  the  Theatre.   Les 
Vepres  Siciliennes,   Les   Come'diens,  Le  Paria,   were  the 
ovations  of  two  seasons.    They  were  won  at  the  darkest 
period  of  the  Restoration  by  works  which  vibrated  with 


CANDIDATURE  AND  RECEPTION  OF  DE  LA  VIGNE.  83 

the  love  of  liberty.  That  "  purification"  of  the  Academy 
which  was  to  prove  powerless  to  arrest  its  rightful  action  at 
a  great  crisis,  was  nevertheless  sufficient  to  impede  the 
entrance  of  obnoxious  candidates.  When  De  La  Vigne 
first  offered  himself,  the  Academy  preferred  the  Bishop  of  rca"demy' 
Hermopolis ;  when  he  was  again  a  candidate,  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Paris  was  chosen.  Soon,  a  third  vacancy  occurred, 
and  his  friends  were  importunate  that  he  should  not  lose 
his  chance.  "  No,"  said  he,  "  if  I  ofiered  myself  a  third 
time,  I  am  sure  they  would  oppose  to  me  the  Pope."  But 
then  came  the  splendid  success  of  L'Ecole  des  Veillards, 
which  carried  the  doors  of  the  Academy  by  storm.  He 
now  obtained  twenty-nine  votes  out  of  thirty,  was  opposed 
by  no  more  prelates,  and  took  his  seat  on  the  7th  July,  1825. 

The  inexhaustible  controversy  between  those  who  would     ^"■'^*  "^ 

*  Classicists 

give  wings  to  innovation,  and  those  who  would  put  a  drag  and 
on  it,  had  at  this  time  its  double  arena  in  France.  The 
Classicists  and  the  Romanticists  were  playing  out  their 
lively  counterpart  of  the  old  strife  between  Royalists  and 
Liberals.  It  is  not  easy,  in  these  days,  to  form  an  adequate 
conception  of  the  violence  with  which  this  struggle  was  at 
length  carried  on  by  a  portion  of  the  press.  But,  when 
Casimir  De  La  Vigne  made  his  reception  speech  to  the 
Academy,  the  contest  had  as  yet  scarcely  passed  the  limits 
of  moderation.  Deeply  imbued  with  the  distinctive  merits 
both  of  the  old  school  and  of  the  new,  he  enforced  the 
wisdom  of  keeping  within  those  limits.  He  depicted  with 
power  and  beauty  the  perplexities  of  the  young  dramatic 
poet  encountering,  at  the  outset  of  his  first  adventure  on 
that  broad  ocean  which  had  borne  his  predecessors  to  such 
glorious  triumphs,  some  "  Genius  of  the  storm,"  who  terri- 
fies him  with  stories  of  the  rocks  and  shoals  which  await 
him,  and  of  the  shipwrecks  they  have  caused.    The  Genius 


H4       THE  CLASSTCISTS  AND  THE  ROMANTICISTS. 

warns  him,  above  all,  to  try  no  new  courses ;  assures  him 
that  beyond  the  boundary  of  the  now  visible  horizon,  there 
is  neither  star  to  guide  nor  tide  to  bear  hina  on  his  way ; 
nothing  save  disaster  and  certain  ruin.  "  But,"  he  asked, 
"  what  avail  these  alarming  predictions,  if  within  the  poet 
there  be  that  which  irresistibly  urges  him  to  seek  new  dis- 
coveries— to  attach  his  name  to  some  region  before  unknown? 
Danger  does  but  spur  him  onward.  Yet  the  perils  are  real. 
And  the  only  safe  pilot  is  the  poet's  conscience,  directing 
his  art,  and  religiously  obeyed.  Boldness  must  be  governed 
by  reason.  Contempt  of  rules  is  not  less  absurd  than 
fanaticism  for  rules.  To  thrust  a  subject  into  limits  which 
are  plainly  repugnant  to  it,  is  to  immolate  Truth  to  Routine. 
To  disregard  good  niles,  simply  to  be  singular  or  to  win 
momentary  applause,  is  but  to  evince  a  new  servility  more 
contemptible  than  the  old."  Such  counsels  are  now  com- 
monplace ;  they  were  then  much  needed.  The  poet  who 
gave  them  contributed  powerfully  to  make  them  trite. 

Within  the  walls  of  the  Institute  the  strife  for  a  time 
seemed  to  turn  on  the  admission  or  the  exclusion  of  Victor 
Hugo,  the  most  eminent  of  the  literary  revolutionists,  and 
the  founder  of  their  famous  **  Cenacle." 

The  Odes  et  Ballades  had  been  published  in  1822; 
Victor  Cromwell^  in  1827  ;  Notre  Dame  de  Paris,  Marion  Delorme, 
exclusion  aud  Lcs  Feuilles  d'Automne,  in  1831.  The  poet  was  not 
admitted  into  the  Academy  until  1841.  Lemercier,  who 
was  really  the  precursor  of  the  Romantic  school  although 
he  disowned  the  relationship,  had  unremittingly  opposed 
his  admission.  Lemercier's  death  became  the  occasion  of 
Hugo's  election.  The  public  looked  for  a  lively  discourse 
on  the  war  between  the  Romanticists  and  Classicists ;  it 
had  to  listen,  instead,  to  a  grave  essay  on  the  duties  of 


from  the  Aca- 
demy. 


DE  SALVAJfDY  AND  VICTOR  HUGO.  85 

Literature   towards   Society,    with    especial   reference    to 
political  reforms. 

The  chair  was  occupied  by  a  man  who  had  himself  made     hw  recep- 
literature  the    stepping-stone   to   a   prominent   career   in  bTxi'dJ^- 
Politics.     M.  de  Salvandy  took  elaborate  pains  to  impress  ''^^^■ 
upon  his  new  colleague  that  Victor  Hugo,  the  poet,  must 
remain  a  poet,  and  stand  quite  aloof  from  public  affairs. 
Nor  did  he  stop  there.     He  gave  a  turn  to  his  reply,  hitherto 
without   example   in   the   Academy's    transactions.      The 
Abbe  de  Caumartin  had  received  the  Bishop  of  Noyon  with 
subdued    but    cutting   satire.      Languet   de    Gergy   had 
tempered  his  praises  of  Marivaux   with  some  candid  criti- 
cisms,    Marniontel   had   amused  the  audience  assembled 
to   receive  Laharpe,  by   the  witty  sallies    w^ith  which  he 
put    into   high  relief  certain   contrasts    between  the    de- 
ceased  Academician,   Colardeau,    and    Laharpe,    his   suc- 
cessor.    Now%  for  the  first  time,  the  President  attempted 
an  exhaustive  refutation  of  the  discourse  of  the  new-comer. 
The  animus  was  none  the  less  evident  for  the  failure  of  the 
effort.     As  a  reply  must  needs  contain  an  admixture  of 
eulogy,  M.  de  Salvandy  praised  some  of  Hugo's  earliest  lyrics, 
and  paid  to  his  mature  works  the  compliment  of  saying 
that,  now  and  then,  they  recalled  to  the  reader's  mind  some- 
thing of  the  beauty  of  the  first-fruits  of  the  poet's  youth. 

Whatever  the  audience  may  have  thought  of  the  fitness 
or  the  taste  of  this  novel  procedure,  it  must  have  had  the 
merit  of  keeping  off"  all  tendency  to  drowsiness.  Instead 
of  listening  to  mutual  eulogies,  there  was  the  excitement 
of  a  pitched  battle  of  wit  and  subtlety,  heightened,  per- 
haps, by  the  knowledge  that  the  official  receiver  had  done 
his  best  to  keep  the  received  outside  the  door.  But  the 
example,  if  ever  imitated  at  all,  has  been  much  refined  upon 
in  the  repetition. 


86  BIOGRAPHY  OF  DE  TOCQUEVILLE. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ALEXIS   DE  TOCQUEVILLE. HIS   WORK    ON   NORTH  AMERICA. 

HIS     RECEPTION     AT     THE     ACADEMY. HIS      OTHER 

WRITINGS   AND    POLITICAL   LIFE. 

Charles  Alexis  Maurice  Clerel  de  Tocqueville  was  born  at 
Verneuil,  in  the  department  of  the  Seine  and  Oise,  on  the 
29th  July,  1805.  Descended  from  an  ancient  family  of  Nor- 
mandy, he  was  the  third  son  of  the  Count  of  Tocqueville,  by 
his  marriage  with  Mdle.  de  Rosambo,  one  of  the  granddaugh- 
ters of  the  illustrious  Malesherbes.  This  marriage  had 
been  contracted  in  1793,  and  was  quickly  followed  by  that 
imprisonment  during  the  Terror,  which  so  many  of  that 
eminent  family  quitted  only  for  the  guillotine ;  a  fate  from 
which  the  parents  of  M.  de  Tocqueville  narrowly  escaped 
by  the  event  of  the  9th  Thermidor. 

Alexis  de  Tocqueville  was  educated  at  the  college  of 
Metz,  at  first  with  a  view  to  the  mihtary  profession,  which 
had  already  been  adopted  by  his  two  elder  brothers.  But 
before  his  studies  were  concluded,  this  intention  was 
changed.  lie  prepared  himself  for  the  bar,  to  which  he 
was  called  in  1825,  and  then  travelled  through  Italy,  be- 
fore entering  into  practice.  In  1827,  he  was  appointed 
judge-auditor  at  the  tribunal  of  Versailles.  The  revolution 
of  1830  matured  in  his  mind  liberal  sympathies  and  aspi- 
rations which  had  not  been  concealed  in  gloomier  days ; 
but  the  only  favour  which  he  sought  at  the  hands  of  the 


HIS  EEPOKT  ON  AMERICAN  PENITENTIARIES.    87 
new  government  was  a  commission  to  examine,  iointly  with     oeTocque- 

c  .  ville's  inquiry 

his  friend  Gustave  de  Beaumont,  and  at  their  personal  into  the peni- 
expense,  the  penitentiary  system  of  the  United  States  of  tem. 
America.  This  task  they  undertook  early  in  18.31,  and 
performed  it,  exhaustively,  during  a  long  tour  throughout 
the  States,  which  occupied  the  remainder  of  that  year  and 
much  of  1832.  They  were  cordially  received,  and  made 
many  friendships. 

In  1833,  the  results  of  the  inquiry  were  published  in  a 
work  entitled,  Du  Systeme  Petiitentiare  aux  Etats-Unis,  et 
de  son  Application  en  France ;  suivi  d'un  Appendice  sur  lea 
Colonies  Penales,  &c.  This  Report  traces  the  history  of  the 
American  system,  and  describes  the  remarkable  measure 
of  success  which  had  attended  it.  It  shows  that  this 
success  was  principally  due  to  the  local  administration 
which  had  both  originated  and  worked  out  the  system.  It 
recommends,  therefore,  that  in  France  power  should  be  given 
to  the  Departments,  severally,  to  erect  and  govern  cellular 
prisons;  insists  on  the  prime  necessity  of  isolation, — labour, 
— religious  instruction, — fit  and  responsible  warders, — in 
the  management  of  such  prisons ;  condemns  the  system  of 
"  surveillance  "  exercised  by  the  French  police  over  released 
prisoners;  and  condemns  still  more  emphatically  the 
punishment  of  transportation  under  all  its  forms.  This  last 
feature  in  the  Report  is  noticeable  for  its  date.  In  1832, 
little  attention  had  yet  been  aroused  to  the  mischievous 
consequences  of  transportation  as  practised  in  our  own 
country — consequences  now  so  generally  admitted.  Our 
example,  indeed,  had  just  then  been  urged  for  French  imita-  ^^^^  ^J"^; 
tion  by  an  author,  M.  de  Blosse,  whose  work  was  laureated  tem  and  tint 
by  the  French  Academy.  The  creation  of  special  reformatory  tation  before 
prisons  for  juvenile  delinquents  is  also  one  of  the  recommen-  "'" '^"*^'""^' 
dations  of  this  pregnant  Report.    Its  authors,  as  is  usual  in 


88  DE  TOCQUEYILLE'S  POLITICS. 

such  cases,  found  it  uphill  work  to  carry  into  operation  the 
reforms  they  recommended  ;  but  both  of  them  had  oppor- 
tunity to  urge  their  views  on  the  attention  of  the  Chamber 
of  Deputies,  and  important  improvements  were  gradually 
effected  in  the  French  prisons. 
Hesuits  of  The  immediate  results,  however,  pale  their  fires  before 
viiie'8  mi8-  the  grand  result  which  came  but  incidentally  from  the  mis- 
sion of  1831 ;  for  to  it  we  owe  a  masterpiece  in  political 
literature.  Here,  also,  the  date  is  an  important  element 
towards  due  a|)preciation.  There  had  already  been  plenty  of 
travellers  in  the  then  "United  States,"  with  much  curiosity 
and  ample  note-books.  But  the  great  majority  of  them 
had  been  engrossed  by  the  pettiest  objects.  Not  a  few 
had  profited  by  an  openhanded  hospitality  to  turn  into 
ridicule  the  manners,  and  to  caricature  the  failings  of  their 
The  Poiiti.  hosts.     Very  different  was  the  ambition  of  M.  de  Tocque- 


Bion  to  Anie 
rica. 


cal  Career  of 


AiexisdeToc-  villc.  Hc  was  uot  a  republican,  either  by  conviction  or 
qucviue.  -^^  sclf-sceking.  Himself  an  accomplished  member  of  the 
{)olished  aristocracy  of  France,  he  was  little  likely  to  over- 
look the  absence  in  America  of  many  courtesies  and  orna- 
ments, materially  conducive  to  the  charms  of  social  life. 
But  he  carried  with  him  the  memory  of  Revolutions  which 
had  terribly  disturbed  the  elegant  repose  of  people  who 
persist  in  mistaking  shadows  for  substances.  In  his  child- 
hood he  had  heard  of  the  prisons  of  the  Terror,  from  the 
lips  of  those  whose  lives  they  had  blighted,  and  had  wit- 
nessed the  plaudits  which  welcomed  the  veterans  who  had 
traversed  Europe  in  triumph.  In  his  youth  he  had  twice 
seen  foreign  armies  overnmning  his  native  land.  At  his 
outset  in  public  life,  he  beheld  a  king  driven  swiftly  into 
exile,  and  a  luxurious  capital  laid  at  the  mercy  of  in- 
surgents, many  of  whom  were  in  want  of  bread.  In 
America,  as   he  saw   it,  in   1831-32,  he  found  apparent 


"  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA."  89 

stability,  instead  of  incessant  revolution ;  peaceful  enjoy- 
ment of  the  fruits  of  industry,  instead  of  habitual  panic ;  an 
almost  universal  possession  of  many  of  the  comforts  as  well 
as  of  the  mere  necessaries  of  life,  instead  of  the  frequent 
contrasts  between  lavish  splendour  and  utter  penury; 
and  he  thought  the  causes  of  such  disparities  must  be 
worth  investigating.  He  certainly  had  not  travelled  over 
the  length  and  breadth  of  the  United  States,  in  such  years 
as  1831  and  1832,  without  seeing  the  social  landscape  in 
all  its  aspects,  and  under  all  its  phases  of  atmospheric 
change.  He  had  witnessed  disgracefid  scenes  of  popular 
violence  and  folly,  which  induced  a  friend  to  ask  him  how 
it  was  possible  that  he  could  write  of  them  with  such  good 
humour  and  kindly  forbearance.  "Ah  !"  he  replied,  "had 
you,  like  me,  been  bred  up  amidst  all  the  miseries  of  in- 
security, political  and  personal,  you  would  have  learned  to 
view  the  worst  that  happens  in  America  with  calmness." 

At  the  age  of  thirty-two,  De  Tocqueville  had  already  burst 
into  European  reputation  by  his  famous  treatise,  American 
society  and  manners ;  the  constitution  and  the  dangers  of 
the  Union ;  had  been  the  themes  of  a  score  of  books,  but  De 
Tocqueville's  book  was  the  first  which  analvzed  the  me-    ."^^^    p'*- 

A  _  -  nous    career 

chanism  and  disclosed  the  motive-power  of  the  body  of  the  Author 
politic.  The  production  of  a  mind  thoroughly  cultivated  ucist. 
as  well  as  deeply  reflective,  it  was  scarcely  more  remarkable 
for  its  contents  than  for  its  tacit  suppressions.  The  author's 
attention  was  almost  exclusively  bent  on  that  working 
out  of  great  social  problems  which  the  then  United  States 
had  offered  to  his  view.  But  his  forbearance  proceeded 
from  no  lack  of  power  to  describe,  incisively,  the  pheno- 
mena which  lie  on  the  surface  of  social  life,  or  to  paint  with 
vividness  the  natural  beauties  of  what  to  most  European 
readers  is  still  a  "  New  World."     What  he  could   do  in 


90     DE  TOCQUEVILLE'S  ADMISSION  INTO  ACADEMY. 

that  department  may  be  seen  in  the  pages  of  the  Revue  dca 
deux  Mondes.  In  his  great  work,  he  debarred  himself  from 
these  attractive  topics,  in  spite  of  the  temptation  which 
such  powers  present.  He  had  pondered  both  the  reahties 
and  the  semblances  which  America  offers  to  the  seeing  eye, 
under  the  influence  of  impressions,  gained  in  France,  which 
were  destined  to  colour  his  whole  life.  The  traditions  of 
the  great  overturn  of  1793,  and  of  the  conquests  and  fall 
of  Napoleon,  were  his  youthful  memories.  With  the  Re- 
volution of  1830  he  had  been  in  close  personal  contact. 
What  he  saw  in  the  States  gave  him  the  conviction  that  the 
inevitable  transition  from  old  to  new,  which  in  his  own 
country  was  still  causing  such  rendings  of  society,  might 
possibly  be  brought  about  at  less  cost.  And  to  teach  the 
lesson  he  had  learnt,  or  believed  himself  to  have  learnt, 
was,  thenceforth,  the  main  object  of  his  labours. 

In  the  Institute  he  succeeded  the  Count  de  Cessac,  one 
of  the  ablest  of  Napoleon's  administrators,  who  had  lived 
long  enough  to  receive  his  old  master's  remains  at  the 
Invalides.  But  it  was  not  simply  because  they  succeeded 
men  the  prime  of  whose  lives  had  been  passed  under  the 
DeTocque-  Empire,  or  because  recent  events  had  roused  the  old  echoes, 
^^  of^rl  ^^^*'  ^^®  thoughts  of  men  who  had  to  speak  at  the  Institute 
ception.  seemed  drawn  so  repeatedly  and  so  irresistibly  to  the  era 
of  Napoleon.  They  saw  the  continued  vitality  of  the  seed 
which  Napoleon  had  sown,  and  which  has  since  borne  such 
conspicuous  fruit.  De  Tocqueville  thought  that  French- 
men under  Napoleon  were  at  remoter  distance  from 
liberty,  than  at  any  preceding  period  of  their  history.  The 
Empire,  in  his  view,  owed  its  splendour  "  to  its  accidents." 
**  Napoleon  was  as  great  as  a  man  can  be,  without  virtue. 
He  carried  through  an  unexampled  enterprise.  He 
rebuilt   the   whole   social   edifice,  in  order  to  make  it  a 


DE  TOCQUEVILLE  AND  MOLE  ON  NAPOLEON.   91 

convenient  dwelling-place  for  despotism."  In  replying  to 
this  address,  Count  Mole — the  President  of  the  day — was 
as  vigorous  and  as  trenchant  as  his  adversary.  The  only 
"accident"  of  the  Empire,  he  said,  was  the  Emperor. 
With  Napoleon,  "despotism"  was,  not  the  end,  but  the 
means — and  the  only  means — of  forcing  the  swollen  river  count  moi^s 
back  into  its  bed ;  of  restoring  to  revolutionized  France  the 
habits  of  order  and  obedience ;  of  giving  her  the  time  for 
needful  oblivion ;  of  opening,  to,  all,  a  new  era.  And 
the  end  was  to  make  France  the  greatest  country  on  earth. 
"  Such  was  Napoleon,  as  I  saw  him.  But  do  not  think  I  am 
less  truthful  than  you  are.  It  is  not  I  who  will  dissimulate 
a  tittle  of  the  misfortune  he  drew  upon  France.  He  wanted 
the  knowledge  where  to  set  the  limits  of  possibiUty,  and 
the  conviction  that  Truth  and  Justice  are  the  best  means  of 
governing  men,  simply  because  they  are  Truth  and  Justice. 
Napoleon  was,  himself,  the  child  of  that  eighteenth  century 
which  he  arraigned  so  sternly.  He  lived  only  by  the  intel- 
lect. He  had  faith  only  in  the  intellect.  He  believed 
that,  in  the  beginning,  the  world  belonged  to  the  strongest, 
and  that  civilization  had  handed  it  over  to  the  cleverest.  He 
dreaded,  above  all  things,  the  rule  of  the  majority,  as  being, 
under  one  form  or  other,  the  sole  return  to  violence  and  bar- 
barism which,  in  our  times,  is  possible."  Count  Mole 
closed  his  speech  by  a  touching  allusion  to  the  illustrious 
grandfather  of  the  new  Academician  : — "  I  still  see  his 
venerable  face,  covered  with  tears.  That  will  tell  you  when 
it  was  that  I  saw  him.  He  had  just  ended  his  sublime 
task,  and  awaited  its  recompense — the  scaffold.  But,  sir, 
it  was  not  in  America,  it  was  not  amidst  a  pure  democracy, 
that  the  soul  of  Malesherbes  had  built  itself  up." 

The  first  portion  of  the  treatise  Be  la  Democratie  en 


92  "DEMOCKACY  IN  AMERICA." 

Amerique  was  published  in  Paris  in  1835.  It  reached  its 
fifth  edition  in  1838,  and  its  thirteenth  edition  in  1850; 
was  quickly  translated  into  English  by  Mr.  Henry  Reeve, 
into  Spanish  by  Sanchez  de  Bustamante,  and  into  German 
by  F.  A.  Aiider.  In  1836,  the  French  Academy  awarded 
to  it  the  Mouthy  on  prize.  In  1839,  the  second  part  ap- 
j)eared  in  two  volumes,  like  the  former  part.  As  usual, 
the  continuation  was  not  received  with  quite  so  much  favour 
as  its  predecessor.  In  this  instance  there  is  cause,  I  think, 
for  the  opinion,  that  its  distinctive  merits  themselves,  as  well 
as  its  distinctive  defects,  somewhat  lessened  its  popularity. 
Seminal  Tlic  semiuai  idea  of  this  famous  book  is,  that  the  irre- 
l.pen^cy  sistible  tendency  of  American  institutions,  and  of  American 
mAmenca."  thought,  towards  thc  utmost  possible  equalization  of  human 
conditions,  is  the  counterpart  of  a  substantially  similar  ten- 
dency in  Europe,  but  is,  in  America,  so  developing  itself, 
as  to  exhibit  at  once  the  ultimate  benefits  and  the  contin- 
gent perils  which  that  equalization  enfolds.  In  De  Tocque- 
ville's  opinion,  therefore,  to  portray  America  is,  in  a  certain 
sense,  to  prefigure  Europe;  in  substance,  that  is,  by  no 
means  necessarily  in  form ;  and  with  the  important  quali- 
fication, that  American  experience  may  possibly  so  influence 
European  opinion,  as  to  make  attainable  the  benefits,  and 
avoidable  the  perils,  of  a  solution  of  the  great  social  pro- 
blem, which,  in  the  main,  he  believes  to  be  inevitable. 
Equality  of  political  power, — and  an  approach  even  to 
equality  of  condition,  speaking  broadly, — must,  he  thinks, 
be  realized  in  Europe  as  well  as  in  America.  Wise  and 
moderate  advances  on  the  part  of  those  who  wield  govern- 
ment or  sway  opinion,  will,  in  his  opinion,  help  to  realize  it 
safely.  Unwise  and  indiscriminating  resistance  may  re- 
tard its  coming,  but  must  at  last  embitter  its  unavoidable 
rule. 


"DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA."  93 

In  Part  I,  after  describinsr  the  external  configuration  of    ^*^yf» "' 

'  ....  ^^^    "Demo- 

North  America,  and  the  starting-point  of  its  colonists,  he  cracymAme- 

shows  what  they  brought  with  them.  He  singles  out  that 
old  principle  of  local  self-government,  from  whence  all  the 
existing  institutions  of  the  country  have  grown,  and  traces 
its  progress  and  its  ramifications.  He  examines  the  several 
institutions  of  the  States,  marks  the  growth  of  their  juris- 
prudence, and  the  formation  of  political  opinion.  He  shows 
how  it  has  come  to  pass  that,  in  the  most  rigorous  sense 
of  the  words,  "  the  people  governs ;"  that  not  only  are  the 
institutions  democratic,  but  all  their  developments  and 
modes  of  working  are  also  democratic ;  that  in  America  the 
people  virtually  elect  both  the  law-maker  and  the  adminis- 
trator of  law,  whilst  itself  is  the  jury  which,  if  it  like  the  law, 
punishes  those  who  break  the  law.  He  dissects  the  federal 
constitution,  and  reconstructs  it  from  its  elements,  bringing 
saliently  out  these  three  main  facts  : — (1)  That  the  majority 
is  everywhere  and  in  everything  omnipotent ;  (2)  that  the 
peace,  prosperity,  and  even  the  very  existence  of  t/ie  Union, 
lie  immediately  in  the  hands  of  the  Supreme  Federal  Court, 
**  the  true  moderator,"  as  he  terms  it,  "  of  the  democracy ;" 
(3)  that  the  higher  and  ultimate  security  of  political  free- 
dom, and  all  that  it  involves,  lies,  on  the  one  hand,  in  the 
absence  of  administrative  centralisation ;  on  the  other,  in 
the  universal  diffusion  of  education,  property,  and  the  sense 
of  inherent  and  inalienable  rights,  throughout  the  entire 
community.  Inhere  is  no  winking  either  at  the  vices  or  at 
the  perils  of  democracy.  In  speaking  of  the  absolute  sub- 
jection even  of  the  press  to  the  will  of  the  majority,  there 
is  such  plain-speaking  as  this : — "  No  writer,  whatever 
his  renown,  can  escape  from  the  obligation  to  burn  incense 
before  his  countrymen.  The  majority  lives  in  perpetual 
self-worship.     Disagreeable  truths  reach  the  ears  of  Araeri- 


94  WRITINGS  OF  DE  TOCQUEVILLE. 

cans  only  from  the  voice  of  a  foreigner,  or  from  the  lessons 
of  experience."*  Elsewhere  he  says, — "  I  know  no  country 
in  which  there  is,  usually,  less  independence  of  mind,  less 
real  freedom  of  discussion,  than  in  America."^  These 
words  will  seem,  to  some  minds,  to  involve,  implicitly,  a 
prediction  of  what  has  happened.  It  has  been  said  by 
acute  observers,  that  the  want  of  really  free  discussion  has 
been  not  the  least  influential  amongst  the  many  causes  of 
the  disastrous  civil  war.  But  in  marking  defects,  there  is, 
in  De  Tocqueville,  no  clamour,  no  invective,  no  disdain ; 
uniformly,  the  anxiety  is  to  indicate  a  remedy. 

Thus  far  the  author  had  a  solid  framework  of  facts,  of 
institutions,  of  measurable  and  computable  results.  His 
book  is  a  masterpiece  of  systematic  construction.  All  its 
parts  unite  and  converge  towards  weighty  and  definite 
conclusions.  In  advancing  to  the  second  part,  the  demar- 
cations of  the  subject  become  necessarily  less  distinct. 
There  he  has  to  treat  of  the  influence  of  democracy  on 
(1)  intellectual  progress ;  on  (2)  public  feeling  {sentiments); 
on  (3)  manners ;  on  (4)  political  society.  It  is  much  easier 
to  criticise  this  arrangement  than  to  suggest  a  better  one ; 
to  say,  for  instance  (as  is  obvious),  that  "public  feehng" 
is  very  closely  allied  both  with  intellectual  progress  and 
with  manners.  A  more  serious  objection  may  perhaps  lie 
to  the  universality  of  the  influences  ascribed  to  the  one 
passion  for  political  and  social  equality.  But  an  excessive 
estimation  of  a  great  subject  is  probably  the  imavoidable 
condition  on  which  we  receive  great  works.  At  all  events, 
it  is  certain  that  the  modifications  and  minor  adjustments 
of  any  such  subject  may  easily  come  afterwards,  and  that 
minds  of  smaller  calibre  will  suffice  for  the  task.     To  the 

'^  Dela  D^mocratie,  Ac.,  treizieme  Edition,  i,  309. 
t  Id.,  i,  307. 


"DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA."  95 

discoverer  of  an  untrodden  region  in  the  world  of  thought, 
we  can  forgive  some  exaggeration  of  its  treasures. 

The  wide  survey  here  taken  of  American  society  in  all  its  The  lessons 
phases,  results,  on  the  whole,  in  a  genial  estimate  of  the  from 'Demo- 
present,  and  in  far  too  hopeful  auguries  of  the  future.  But  „']!,''?."' *°'^' 
in  describing  the  intellectual  and  social  results  of  demo- 
cracy as  they  unfold  themselves  in  America,  there  is  as  little 
suppression  of  the  unfavourable  features  as  there  was  in  the 
analysis  of  its  political  results.  Thus,  for  example,  in  a 
chapter  of  the  second  part,  which  treats  of  the  special  im- 
portance to  democratic  communities  of  the  remoter  aims 
of  human  action,  there  occurs  this  passage  : — "  As  soon  as 
men  cease  to  place  their  grand  aims  at  a  great  distance, 
they  are  naturally  impelled  to  seek  the  immediate  realiza- 
tion of  their  pettiest  desires  j  as  if,  desparing  to  live  eter- 
nally, they  must  needs  act  as  though  they  had  but  a  single 
day  to  live.'^  This  is  a  warning,  for  proof  of  the  per- 
tinency of  which  we  need  not  look  so  far  afield  as  to  Ame- 
rica. Much  of  the  book  has  a  like  home  applicability. 
There  are  keen  censures  in  it,  which  consist  simply  in 
putting  facts  under  the  light,  but  the  facts  so  lighted  up 
are  by  no  means  exclusively  of  American  growth.  This, 
I  think,  is  one  of  the  causes  why  the  second  part  was  not, 
like  the  first,  highly  lauded  in  articles,  the  entire  drift  and 
spirit  of  which  was  in  antagonism  with  the  book  reviewed. 
Instead  of  this,  a  reader  may  perhaps  find  in  one  number 
of  a  literary  journal  loud  praise,  and  in  another  number  of 
the  same  journal  an  assertion  that  "  those  who  follow  De 
Tocqueville  are  pantheists  in  politics,  and  will  soon  come 
to  pantheism  in  religion,"* — a  hit,  assuredly,  very  wide 
of  the  mark.  To  me  it  seems  that  the  deficiencies  in  the 
book  really  most  obnoxious  to  criticism  are  (1),  the  absence 

*  Quarterly  Review,  Ixvi,  493. 


90         dp:  tocqueville  in  the  chamber. 

of  any  adequate  estimate  of  the  political  effects  of  the  wide 
extent  of  sparsely-peopled  teriitory  in  America  ;*  and  (2), 
the  utterly  insufficient  view  which  is  given  of  the  influences 
of  Protestantism  on  the  American  people ;  both  of  them, 
it  may  be  noted,  points  which  are  likely  to  be  very 
differently  regarded  in  France  and  in  Britain.  That  Demo- 
cracy in  America  is  the  work  of  a  mind  saturated  with  the 
past  glories  of  France,  alarmed  at  the  perils  that  visibly 
obstructed  her  onward  path,  and  intent,  above  all  things 
else,  on  her  deliverance,  is  not  its  least  merit.  To  make 
American  experience  subserve  French  progress,  and  to  con- 
vert American  mistakes  into  French  safeguards,  was  the 
author's  constant  aim. 

De  Tocqueville's  political  career — as  far  as  respects  home 
politics — was  in  thorough  harmony  with  the  pervading 
patriotism  and  the  lofty  qualities  of  the  book,  the  fame  of 
which  was  already  world-wide  before  that  career  began. 
He  was  elected  to  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  by  the  Depart- 
ment of  La  Manche  in  1839,  and  in  the  course  of  the  same 
year  made  a  valuable  report  on  slavery  in  the  French 
colonies,  proposing  its  abolition  (which  was  not  effected, 
however,  until  after  the  fall  of  Lewis  Philip),  with  an 
indemnity  to  the  colonists,  as  a  matter  of  public  utility, 
"  not  as  a  compensation  for  the  loss  of  that  which  no  man 
ever  had,  or  could  have,  any  right  to  possess,"!  ^  proposi- 
tion which  excited  great  turmoil  amongst  the  colonists.  In 
February,  1 840,  and  again  in  April  (after  the  formation  of 

*  Yet  this  point  waa  strongly  urged  upon  the  attention  of  the  fellow- 
travellers  (in  relation  to  the  specific  object  of  theii*  mission),  by  a  letter 
from  the  Attorney-General  of  Maryland,  written  in  January,  1832. 

t  Bapport  cm  nom  d'une  Commission  ....  relative  aux  Esclaves  des 
Colonies  {Procia  Verbeaux  des  Seances  de  la  Chambre  des  Deputes, 
Session  de  1869).     Stance  du  23^  Juillet. 


DE  TOCQUEVILLE'S  ANTICIPATTONS  OF  1848.      97 

the  Thiers  ministry),  he  strenuously  supported  motions  for 
limiting  the  number  of  public  functionaries  in  the  Chamber 
of  Deputies.  Repeatedly  during  that  and  subsequent 
years,  he  laboured Jn  the  promotion  of  improvements  in  the 
criminal  law,  and  especially  in  prison  discipline.  In 
1847,  as  chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Algiers,  he  made 
elaborate  reports  recommending  administrative  reform 
in  that  colony,  and  the  extension  of  local  powers  in  second- 
ary matters;  and  strongly  condemning  (1)  the  prevalent 
system  of  attempting  to  do  everything  for  the  colonists, 
instead  of  training  them  to  do  most  things  for  themselves  ; 
and  (2),  a  particular  pet  project  of  the  government  for 
military  agricultural  settlements  at  the  public  cost,*  which 
was,  however,  earned  out,  but  with  results  strongly  confir- 
matory of  the  opposer's  views.  His  most  memorable 
speech  was  that  made  on  the  27th  January,  1848,  in 
which,  in  the  simplest  words,  but  with  the  utmost  possible 
incisiveness,  he  urged  every  member  of  the  Chamber  to  put 
to  himself  the  question,  "  What  must  be  the  end  of  that  His  antiri. 
electoral  corruption  and  that  public  scandal  which  I,  indi-  ?8«."' 
vidually,  know  to  exist  ?"  and  then  implored  the  ministers 
to  change  a  policy  which,  said  he,  "makes  the  ground 
tremble  beneath  our  feet ;"  concluding  with  these  prophetic 
words — "  Is  it  possible  you  can  be  undisturbed  by  that 
sough  of  revolution  which  is  in  the  wind  {pent  de  revolution 
qui  est  dans  Vair),  which  blows  we  know  not  whence  or 
whither,  and  know  as  little,  be  assured  of  that,  whom  it  will 
whirl  away  ?  Is  it  at  such  a  moment  that  you  can  calmly 
witness  the  degradation  of  public  morality  ?"f    These  words 

*  BMpport  au  nom  de  la  Commission  chargee  (Texaminer  le  Prqjei  de 
Loi  relatif  avx  credits  extraordinaires  demandes  pour  VAlg^rie  {Proces  ver- 
haux,  &c.,  Session  de  1847,  vi,  305—410). 

t  Discours  deM.de  Tocqueville,  dans  la  discussion  du  Projet  d'Adresse, 
Seance  du  27  Janv.,  1848  {Moniteur,  28th  Jan.,  1854). 

7 


career  under 
the  Repiitilic, 
and  the  Km- 
pirc  of  Napo- 
leon III. 


98  DK  TOCQUEVILLK  IN  OFFICE. 

were  timely.  They  were  uttered  exactly  four  weeks  before 
the  Revolution  of  February ;  but  many  ears  are  deaf  to  the 
wisest  charmer. 

Political  After  that  revolution,  the  Department  of  La  Manche  re- 
turned M.  de  Tocqueville  to  the  National  Assembly  by  a 
majority  of  110,711  votes  over  his  next  competitor.  He 
was  third  on  a  list  of  fifteen  names.  He  voted  for  the 
banishment  of  the  House  of  Orleans ;  became  vice-president 
of  the  Committee  of  Public  Instruction,  and  a  member  of 
the  Conunittee  on  the  Constitution,  and  took  a  very  notice- 
able part  in  the  discussions  on  the  "  rights  of  labour."  In 
one  of  his  speeches  on  this  topic,  the  socialistic  theories 
were,  for  the  first  time  in  the  National  Assembly,  fairly 
grappled  with.  He  branded  "  socialism  "  as  an  energetic 
and  pertinacious  appeal  to  the  lower  passions  of  mankind ; 
as  a  system  of  which  the  basis  was  a  thorough  mistrust 
of  liberty,  a  hearty  contempt  for  man  individually  ;  as,  in  a 
word,  a  lust  for  the  old  servitude  in  a  new  livery.  In 
1849,  after  representing  France  at  the  Brussels  Congress, 
he  became  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  and  in  that 
capacity  he  strenuously  vindicated  the  policy  of  the  memo- 
rable expedition  to  Rome,  to  which,  in  its  origin,  he  had 
not  been  a  party,  and  the  ultimate  direction  of  which  was 
to  fall  into  quite  other  hands.  The  defence,  assuredly  con- 
scientious, seems  to  me  just  as  certainly  fallacious.  Here, 
however,  it  can  neither  be  described  nor  appreciated.  But 
it  must  be  mentioned  that  one  of  the  chief  grounds  of  that 
defence  in  his  mouth  was,  that  the  expedition  tended  "  to 
prevent  a  return  of  the  old  abuses.  ...  You  must  never," 
he  told  the  Assembly,  "lose  sight  of  that  which  now  be- 
comes the  main  point, — that  we  desire  to  secure  to  the 
States  of  the  Church  really  hberal  institutions."* 

*  Diacours  deM.de  Tocqueville,  &c.,  6  Aout,  1849  {Moniteur,  7th  Aug.  1849). 


DE  TOCQUEVILLE  ON  THE  OLD  MONARCHY.     99 

M.  de  Tocqueville's  ministry  of  foreign  affairs  lasted  only 
five  months.  When  (31st  Oct.,  1849)  the  President  sent 
his  significant  message,  declaring  that  the  old  parties  must 
no  longer  be  permitted  to  "  renew  their  factious  struggle," 
and  that  the  suffrage  of  the  people  had  "  adopted,  not  a 
man,  but  an  entire  system  of  policy,"  the  Ministry  in  a 
body  resigned.  The  brief  remainder  of  M.  de  Tocque- 
ville's political  life  was  passed  in  firm  opposition  to  that 
"  entire  system."  Very  happily,  four  years  of  vigour  were 
left  him  for  the  production  of  a  noble  book — VAncien  His  work 
Berime  et  la  Revolution — of  which  all  that  can  here  be  Monarchy 
said  is,  that  it  is  more  than  worthy  of  the  author  of  Demo- 
cracy in  America.  This  work  was  published  in  1856.  M, 
de  Tocqueville  died  at  Cannes  on  the  16th  April,  1859. 
The  political  horizon  was  then  very  dark.  The  institu- 
tions he  loved,  and  to  which  he  had  been  an  honour,  were 
suppressed.  The  servility  he  hated  was  rampant.  But  he 
knew  that  liberty  has  sometimes  been  more  wisely  used, 
and  more  highly  valued,  for  its  temporary  loss,  and  that  no 
prescription  can  bar  the  rights  of  a  people.  He  had,  too, 
a  title  to  console  himself  with  the  thought  that  in  his  last 
book  he  had  left  to  his  countrymen  an  excellent  manual  of 
political  study  and  aspiration.  It  is  a  legacy  which  the 
most  gifted  in  the  long  and  glorious  line  of  French  pub- 
licists might  have  been  proud  to  bequeath. 


and  the 
Revolution. 


100         ALFRED  DE  VIGNY  AND  COUNT  MOLfi. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE    ENCOUNTER    OF    ALFRED    DE   VIGNY    AND    COUNT  M0L6. 

At  the  date — 1846 — of  the  entrance  into  the  Academy 
of  Count  Alfred  de  Vigny, — by  whose  death  France  has 
just  lost  one  of  the  worthiest  of  her  men  of  letters, — there 
was  already  in  the  air,  the  sure  signs  of  a  coming  political 
storm.  But  those  must  have  been  keen  observers,  indeed, 
who  could,  as  yet,  anticipate  a  second  Empire.  Still,  it 
was  again  the  Napoleonic  ideas  and  the  Napoleonic  remi- 
niscences that  gave  rise  to  the  most  notable  passage  of 
arms  of  a  day  memorable  in  the  Academy's  annals. 

Etienne,  De  Vigny's  predecessor,  had  been  distinguished 
both  as  a  joumalist  and  as  a  dramatic  author.  De  Vigny 
began  his  speech  by  classifying  men  of  letters  into  two 
main  divisions — the  thinkers  and  the  improvisators.  The 
thinkers  working  for  posterity ;  dreading  haste ;  paying 
little  regard  to  the  hubbub  around  them  ;  aiming  at  perfec- 
tion. The  improvisators  working  rapidly  and  impetuously 
for  an  immediate  result ;  studying  the  passing  interests  and 
tempers  of  the  hour,  both  as  means  and  as  ends ;  content- 
ing themselves  if  they  can  but  domineer  over  their  contem- 
poraries. In  the  course  of  an  animated  retrospect  of  the 
life  and  writings  of  Etienne, — whom  he  classed,  of  course, 
with  the  "  improvisators," — he  dwelt,  with  evident  enjoy- 
ment,  on   the  fortunes  of  a  comedy,  famous  in  its  time. 


NAPOLEON  AS  A  DRAMATIC  CENSOR.  101 

called   L Intrigante,    which   had    been    produced,   before 
Napoleon  himself,  at  Saint  Cloud.     He  depicted  the  secret     ^  '^'eny'* 

^    *      _  '■  discourse     at 

disquiet  which  seemed  to  pervade  society,  at  that  epoch,  his  reception. 
"like  an  epidemic."  Power,  he  said,  intoxicated  with 
victory  and  freed  from  all  outward  check,  had  lost  its  self- 
control.  It  sought  to  dispose  even  of  marriages,  in  accord- 
ance with  political  calculations  and  dynastic  interests.  Lists 
of  heiresses  were  drawn  up,  and  too  frequently  an  all- 
powerful  finger  pointed  to  names.  In  Etienne's  comedy, 
the  half-smothered  discontent  found  expression.  When 
the  actor — and  the  actor  was  Fleury — uttered  the  then 
startling  verses  : — 

"  Si  je  sers  mon  pays,  si  j 'observe  ses  lois, 
C'est  a  son  tour  I'Etat  qui  garantit  mes  di'oits. 
Mon  respect  pour  la  cour  a  souvent  eclate, 
Et  nul  n'est  plus  soiunis  a  son  autorite. 
Mais  que  peut-elle  faire  a  I'liymen  de  ma  fille  ? 
Je  suis  sujet  du  prince,  et  roi  dans  ma  famille :" — 

the  audience  was  excited,  and  the  Emperor  himself  rose 
from  his  seat.  "  The  shaft  had  struck  home.  The  comedy 
was  immediately  interdicted,  and  the  very  type  in  which  it 
had  been  set  up  for  the  press  was  seized  by  the  police." 
And  here  De  Vigny  introduced  a  parenthetical  reflection  to 
which  subsequent  events  have  given  a  but  too  significant 
gloss : — "  Thanks  to  the  fortune  of  France,  we  are  now 
far  removed  from  those  strokes  of  absolute  power,  which 
doubtless  will  never  recur,  and  w^hich  even  glory  could  not 
excuse.  The  generation  I  belong  to,  which  from  youth 
upwards  has  breathed  no  air  but  that  of  parliamentary 
freedom,  finds  it  difficult  to  believe  that  any  denser  atmo- 
sphere can  have  been  tolerated." 

The  president  of  the  Academy  at  this  reception  was, 
again.  Count  Mole.  Mole  was  then  one  of  the  very  few 
surviving  statesmen  who  had  held  famihar  intercourse  with 


102  MOLE'S  CRITICISMS  ON  CINQ-MARS. 

Napoleon.  He  had  known  the  Emperor  in  his  strength 
and  in  his  weakness.  He  had  rendered  good  service  to 
France,  both  under  Napoleon  and  after  him.  By  his 
recollections,  as  well  as  by  his  sympathies,  he  was  impelled 
to  take  up  the  gauntlet,  so  boldly  thrown. 

In  accordance  with  custom,  a  copy  of  the  new  member's 
intended  speech  had  been  given  to  the  president  beforehand. 
The  MS.  contained  a  strong  metaphor  about  slaves  and 
janissaries,  Avhich,  in  delivery,  had  been  omitted.  Count 
Mole,  after  dexterously  complimenting  the  orator  on  the 
brilliancy  of  his  description  of  scenes  and  events,  "  at  which 
his  hearers  might  well  have  supposed  him  to  have  been 
present,"  proceeded  to  assure  him  that  neither  M.  Etienne 
nor  he.  Mole,  himself,  had  ever  been  acquainted  with  any 
of  those  French  families  who  had  been  forced  to  withdraw 
by  flight  from  "  firmans  which  awarded  a  young  slave  to  a 
janissary,"  as  the  guerdon  of  his  services.  M.  Etienne,  he 
admitted,  might  have  had  reason  to  regret  that  in  those 
days  there  were  parents  whose  ambition  or  cupidity 
prompted  them  to  marry  their  daughters  in  accordance, 
rather  with  the  presumed  wishes  of  the  nder,  than  with 
their  own  inclinations,  but  "  never,"  he  repeated,  "  were 
there,  amongst  us,  either  slaves  or  janissaries." 

Mole  then  proceeded  to  analyse,  with  great  abiUty  and 

in  a  very  incisive  style,  although  from  a  narrow  point  of 

view,  the  more  remarkable  works  of  the  new  Academician. 

He  dwelt  especially  on  the  limitations  which  the  poet — in 

verse  or  in  prose — ought  to  impose  on  himself,  in  dealing 

connt      with  historical  events  and  real  persons.     He  alleged  that 

cismVon 'i)e  "^  Cijiq-Mars  we  have  veritable  history  drest,  artistically 

vigny  ns  a  jjij^jed  i^yj;  drcst  as  a  romance.     The  facts  are  borrowed 

Kuniiiiicist.  ' 

from  French  annals,  but  there  are  very  few  facts  to  which 
the  author's  fertile  imagination  has  left  their  identity.  Had 


HIS  ESTIMATE  OF  RICHELIEU.  103 

De  Vigny  contented  himself  with  resuscitating,  for  the 
necessities  of  the  drama,  Father  Joseph, — who  in  plain  fact 
died  four  years  earher, — and  with  converting  into  a  hero 
the  hot-headed  and  presumptuous  favourite,  of  two  and 
twenty,  who  was  willing  to  hand  France  over  to  foreigners, 
so  that  he  might  but  be  freed  from  the  control  of  the 
too-powerful  Minister,  it  would  sufiBce,  perhaps,  to  ask 
him  whether  such  liberties  did  not  put  a  somewhat  serious 
strain  upon  his  own  avowed  maxim  :  "Truth  in  art"?  But 
why  had  he  reduced  to  such  mean  proportions  one  of  the 
greatest  statesmen  of  modern  times?  Richelieu's  ambition,  ^^f^J^/'^'i^a' 
in  Count  Mole's  judgment,  never  had  any  other  aim  than  racterandof 

1  I  •  c    -ri  T^        I   •  T-i  11     **'^  ambition 

the  power  and  exaltation  of  France.  By  him,  France  had  of  Rici.eiieu. 
been  endowed  with  national  unity,  at  the  same  time  that 
the  royal  authority  had  been  organized  on  a  firm  basis. 
Doubtless,  Richelieu  had  too  little  borne  in  mind  that 
clemency  is  often  the  best  counsellor  of  kings.  But,  by 
destroying  the  formidable  powers  which  had  vied  with  the 
crown,  he,  first,  had  made  room  for  the  obscure,  and  had 
subserved  those  plans  of  Divine  Providence  which  were 
already  written  over  his  head,  although  in  a  region  which 
his  gaze  could  not  reach.  To  Count  Mole's  mind,  such 
men  belong  to  Truth,  not  to  Fiction.  To  blend  them  into 
romantic  combinations  is  likely  rather  to  dwarf  them,  than 
to  delineate.  And,  finally,  he  reminded  both  Academicians 
and  auditory  that  it  ought  not  to  be  thought  strange  if,  in 
the  midst  of  a  society  of  which  Richelieu  had  been  the 
founder,  a  voice  should  be  raised  to  recall  his  glory  and  to 
defend  his  memory.  Whatever  our  estimate  of  the  defence, 
either  of  Napoleon  or  of  Richelieu,  it  must  have  been 
impossible  to  listen  to  this  address  without  admiring  the 
vigour  of  the  orator.  Men  like  Count  Mole  bore  some 
share  in  paving  the  way  for  Napoleon  III,  without  quite 
intcndini;  it. 


101  MONTALEMBERT  AND  LACORDAIUE. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    COUiNT   DE   MONTALEMBERT,   AND    THE   ABb6 
LACORDAIRE. 

Under  the  rule  of  Napoleon  III,  the  Institute  has  been 
enlarged.  Some  details  of  its  organization  have  been 
modified.  But  no  change  has  been  made — or  none  of 
importance — in  the  constitution  of  the  French  Academy. 
The  most  striking  "receptions"  have  been  those  of  the 
Count  de  Montalembert  and  of  the  Abbe  Lacordaire.  The 
former  entered  the  Academy  in  1852,  within  two  month? 
The  poiiti-  Qf  ^jjg  Q       d'Etaty  and  the  introduction  of  such  a  man, 

cal   career  of  *  '  ' 

the  Count  dc  Qt  such  a  time,  into  the  one  public  arena  in  France  in  which 

MuutalcDi-  ... 

bert.  freedom  of  speech  is,  at  once,  a  tradition  of  the  past,  and  a 

weapon  of  the  present,  naturally  excited  more  than  usual 
expectation.  This  distinguished  man  had  been,  for  a 
while,  one  of  the  preachers  of  that  ephemeral  gospel  which 
sought  to  combine,  at  least  a  close  approximation  towards 
ultramontanism  in  religion,  with  a  large  measure  of  radi- 
cahsm  in  politics.  And,  for  many  years,  M.  de  Montalem- 
bert was  among  the  most  eminent  and  most  pertinacious 
of  the  opponents  of  the  policy  of  King  Lewis  Philip. 
Very  early  in  1848,  he  had  foretold  a  Republic,  and  when 
it  came,  he  offered  it  his  services.  His  repeated  contests 
with  Victor  Hugo,  in  the  Legislative  Assembly,  had  kept 
him  much   before  the  public.      He  had   supported  the 


MONTALEMBERT'S  SPEECH  TO  THE  ACADEMY.  105 

restrictive  laws  on  the  press,  and  the  expedition  to  Rome. 
In  1851,  he  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  the  thing  France 
most  needed  was  a  "  Roman  expedition  at  home."  And 
now,  the  thing  wished  for  had  come,  although  scarcely  in 
the  form  anticipated. 

The  Academical  chair  on  this  occasion  was  fiUed  by  M.     ^'^  "'^^P' 

*'        _        tion    at    the 

Guizot,  whose  voice,  once  so  potent,  had  been  unheard  in  Academy. 
public  during  four  years.  The  deceased  member,  M.  Droz, 
had  been  amongst  the  historians  of  the  great  Revolution, 
once  again  brought  vividly  before  men's  minds  by  its 
newest  developments,  and  now  to  be,  by  the  incoming 
member,  vigorously  arraigned  and  condemned  in  all  its 
phases.  M.  de  Montalembert  praised  his  predecessor  for 
having,  under  Charles  X,  criticised  with  severity  the 
political  opposition  of  that  day,  which  "  already  was  under- 
mining the  throne."  He  quoted,  with  strong  approval,  a 
passage  written  by  M.  Droz  twenty-six  years  before : — 
"  When  they  give  us  the  Republic,  we  shall  have  one  day 
of  liberty,  and  many  days  of  tyranny — the  *  liberty,'  under 
the  mob ;  the  '  tyranny,'  under  some  despot  or  other." 
But  M.  de  Montalembert  omitted  to  remind  the  Academy 
that  his  predecessor's  name  was,  at  that  very  date,  recorded 
on  one  of  the  most  honourable  pages  of  its  own  history.  It 
should  not,  at  such  a  time,  have  been  overlooked  that  it 
was  not  a  mob  that  drew  up  the  "  law  of  Justice  and  Love," 
against  which  M.  Droz,  together  with  a  majority  of  his 
fellow-Academicians — us  much  attached  to  wise  order  and 
good  government  as  any  Frenchmen  who  have  ever  lived — 
had  so  strenuously  and  so  successfully  protested. 

In  characterizing;  Droz^s  History  of  the  Revolution,  the    Mdoicn- 

°  1     -n        •  1-11  talembcrt's 

orator  spoke  of  the  repeated  illusions  which  had  led  men  summary  of 
to  treat  the  Revolution  as  a  bygone  event.  "  What  we,  liouofiTsg"! 
like  our  fathers,  have  regarded  as  the  entire  work,  was  but 


106  montalembert's  estimate  of  revolution. 

a  chapter.  The  Revolution  has  resumed  its  course.  Once 
again,  it  has  outstripped  our  worst  fears.  It  has  deceived 
alike  the  prudent  and  the  bold.  It  has  put  all  the  fools  in 
the  right,  and  has  given  confidence  to  every  scoundrel." 
With  a  passing  allusion  to  certain  system-mongers  who  had 
pretended  to  affiliate  democracy  upon  Christianity,  and  to 
make  the  Revolution  a  Commentary  on  the  Gospels,  he 
proceeded  to  lay  the  whole  burden  of  the  revolutionary 
crimes  on  the  Constituent  Assembly  of  1789.  "  It  treated 
France  as  a  conquered  country.  ...  By  proclaiming  the 
right  of  the  State  over  Church  property,  it  deposited  in  our 
institutions  .  .  the  germ  of  Communism.  .  .  .  Open 
the  Moniteur^  change  the  names  and  the  dates ;  and  you 
will  find  there  the  first  editions  of  the  doctrines  which  have 
most  alarmed  contemporary  Europe."  The  Constituent,  he 
contended,  did  not,  indeed,  abolish  the  monarchy,  "  but 
gave  it  up,  disarmed,  chained,  degraded,  with  a  sceptre  of 
reed  and  a  crown  of  thorns,  to  the  executioners  in  the 
rear."  This  too  sweeping  indictment  was  summed  up  in 
the  words  : — "  Let  us  have  the  courage  to  say  it — in  the 
face  of  verdicts  of  history  and  menaces  of  the  future — the 
Revolution  of  1789,  shaping  itself  as  it  did,  has  been 
nothing  but  a  blood-stained  inutility." 
M.  de  vion-  Morc  thau  once,  and  without  any  insincerity  on  his  part, 
pliitkai'Jlsi-  passing  circumstances  have  placed  M.  de  Montalembert  in 
tioD.andhis  ^jj  exceptional  position,  and  have  made  him  appear — 
other  spheres  cspccially  to  EugUsh  readers  of  French  literature — as  a 
combatant  for  opinions  which  he  has  never  really  held.  If 
closely  examined,  his  career  will  be  found  to  have  been 
substantially  consistent  wdth  the  principles  which  thirty 
years  ago  led  the  famous  triumvirate  of  V Avenir  to  visit 
Rome.  Nor  can  any  career  better  vindicate  the  assertion, 
then  made  by  Gregory  XVI  to  Montalembert,  Lacordairc, 


THE  EMINENT  SERVICES  OF  MONTALEMBERT.   107 

and  La  Mennais,  that  implicit  fidelity  to  the  Papacy  and 
consistent  "  liberaHsm"  in  politics  cannot  long  cohere.  But 
it  must  never  be  forgotten  that  in  other  than  political 
spheres  of  action  M.  de  Montalembert  has  rendered  great 
and  brilliant  service  to  some  of  the  best  of  social  interests. 
Those  who  are  old  enough  to  call  to  mind  the  first  appear- 
ance of  the  treatise  Du  Vandalisvie  dans  V Art,  will  ever 
retain  a  reverent  love  for  its  author,  as  one  who  fought  a 
good  fight  in  evil  times.  Those  who  have  read,  but 
yesterday,  the  eloquent  and  graceful  History  of  the  Monks 
of  the  West,  will  acknowledge  in  his  latest  work  a  substan- 
tially truthful  and  worthy  monument  raised  to  men  who 
played  an  important  part  in  the  world,  and  played  it  well ; 
whatever  may  be  the  difierence  of  view  between  writer  and 
readers  on  the  great  questions  of  the  passing  day,  and  on 
the  degree  to  which  monastic  work  and  monastic  aims  are 
now  but  the  things  of  a  bygone  time. 

M.  Guizot's  reply  was  strikingly  moderate  and  statesman- 
like. He  showed  that  it  was  possible  to  recognise  at  once 
what  was  truly  great  in  the  old  monarchy  and  what  was  m.  Guizot's 
timely  and  useful  in  the  governments  which  have  succeeded  S'Sontaiemi 
it.  He  then  glanced  at  the  history  of  the  Academy  itself:  ''^'^• 
"  In  paying  due  homage  to  Richelieu  and  Lewis  XIV,  it 
has  never  subjugated  its  thoughts,  or  its  hopes.  It  regrets 
neither  absolute  power,  nor  the  illusions  of  universal 
monarchy.  I  have  some  right  to  affirm  that  it  holds 
Liberty  of  Conscience  to  be  sacred,  and  deplores  the  Revo- 
cation of  the  Edict  of  Nantes,"  These  words  are  weighty, 
and  are  in  wholesome  contrast  with  such  utterances  as  that 
which  was  delivered,  on  the  same  spot,  a  few  years  later, 
when  Bishop  Dupanloup  asserted  the  Clergy  to  be  "  under 
no  obligation  to  Christian  humility,"  ichen  "  they  are  de- 
fending the  cause  of  God,  or  the  cause  of  the  Church" 


The    Al>l)c 
Lacordaire. 


108    THE  EARLY  CAREER  OP  LACORDAIRE. 

Jean  Baptiste  Henri  Lacordaire  was  one  of  four  brothers, 
born  in  the  first  four  years  of  the  present  century  at 
Recey-sur-Ource,  in  the  department  of  the  Cote  d'Or,  all 
of  whom  have  attained  distinction  in  their  several  pursuits. 
He  was  educated  with  a  view  to  the  bar,  but,  after  devoting 
two  years  to  legal  studies  in  Paris,  with  good  promise  of 
success,*  he  became  dissatisfied  with  the  calhng,  and  de- 
termined to  enter  the  Church.  He  received  priest's  orders 
in  1827,  and  made  his  first  appearance  in  polemical  htera- 
ture  on  the  establishment,  in  October,  1830,  of  the  cele- 
brated journal  V Avenir. 

For  two  years,  Lacordaire,  La  Mennais,  and  Count  de 
Montalembert,  laboured  zealously  to  preach  the  conjoint 
supremacy  of  the  clergy  in  religion,  and  of  universal 
suffrage  in  politics,  through  the  columns  of  DAvenir, 
"  God  and  Liberty ;  the  Pope  and  the  People ;"  such  was 
its  motto.  But,  at  the  end  of  that  period,  Gregory  XVI 
condemned  these  doctrines,  and  laid  an  interdict  on  the 
newspaper.  The  three  chief  writers  betook  themselves  to 
Rome,  and  there  they  definitively  parted  company.  On 
his  return  to  Pai'is,  the  Abbe  Lacordaire  announced  "  his 
absolute  submission  to  the  Holy  Father,  and  his  determina- 
tion to  know  no  other  guide  than  the  Church ;  no  other 
necessity  than  union ;  no  other  ambition  than  that  of 
rallying  around  the  Holy  See,  and  the  Bishops  whom  Divine 
Grace  and  Mercy  have  bestowed  upon  the  Christians  of 
France." 

This  Confession  of  Faith  Father  Lacordaire,  in  subse- 
quent years,  fully  carried  out.  His  many  eccentricities  lay 
on  the  surface.  In  substance,  he  was  always  the  thorough- 
going but  the  really  honest  and  devout  advocate  of  the 
Papacy.  If,  on  one  occasion,  he  claimed  as  the  distinctive 
boast  of  the  Roman  clergy  that  they  "  never  desj)air  of 


LACORDAIRE'S  "CHRISTIAN  HEROES."  109 

truth,  of  justice,  and  of  the  liberty  of  the  Human  Bace"* 
he  presently  illustrated  his  conceptions  of  those  terms  by 
eulogising  that  "  Christian  chivalry  which  took  under  its 
protection  the  sacred  weakness  of  the  Church,"  and  one  ^^^^J^^^^l 
of  the  finest  examples  of  which  he  recoo;nises  in  Simon  de  tian  church, 

■"■^  , "  .     .       according    to 

Montfort,  the  extirpator  of  the  Albigenses.f  Dominic  Lacordaire. 
and  Montfort,  he  says,  "  were  the  two  heroes  of  the  w^ar 
of  the  Albigenses,  the  one  as  knight,  the  other  as  priest."  | 
The  city  which  witnessed  some  of  the  worst  atrocities  of 
the  Inquisition ;  within  whose  walls  the  Massacre  of  St. 
Bartholomew  had  one  of  its  most  terrible  repetitions; 
whose  inhabitants  looked  on  at  the  judicial  murder  of  the 
family  of  Calas,  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century ; 
was  to  the  Abbe  Lacordaire  "  like  a  lamp  lighted  by  the 
holy  doctrines  of  the  good,  the  beautiful,  and  the  noble." 
France,  Spain,  and  Italy  form  "  a  sanctified  zone  of  the 
world,"  of  which  zone,  "  Toulouse  serves  as  a  clasp,"  ... 
"  keeping  in  her  guard,  as  the  purest  and  most  splendid 
symbol  of  the  faith,  the  body  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas."^ 

By  Father  Lacordaire,  his  Academical  honoiu-s — had  life 
been  prolonged — would,  probably,  have  been  prized  rather 
as  a  weapon  than  as  a  crown.  There  is  a  curious  episode 
in  one  of  his  earlier  lectures  respecting  Erasmus  : — "  You 
all  know  Erasmus,  gentlemen  ; — he  was,  in  his  day,  the  first 
Academician  in  the  world.  On  the  eve  of  the  tempests 
which  were  to  shake  Europe  and  the  Church,  he  wrote 
prose  with  the  most  consummate  elasticity.  All  the  world 
were  at  loggerheads,  to  obtain  one  of  his  letters.  Princes 
were   proud   to   correspond   with   him.      But   when   the 

*  Conferences  de  N.  D.  de  Paris,  i,  120. 

f  Vie  de  St.  Dominique,  65. 

+  lb.,  101. 

§  Disconrs  pour  la  translation  du  chef  de  8.  Thomas  d'Aquin,  42. 


110    LACORDAIRE'S  ELECTION  INTO  THE  ACADEMY. 

thundercloud  burst ;  when  it  became  necessary  to  devote 
oneself  to  error  or  to  truth  ;  to  give,  to  the  one  or  to  the 
other,  speech,  glory,  and  blood  itself ;  this  worthy  man  had 
the  courage  1o  remain  an  Academician.  He  extinguished 
himself  in  Rotterdam  under  phrases,  still  very  elegantly 
turned,  but  despicable."*  Lacordaire  was  certainly  in  no 
danger  of  being  converted  into  an  Academician  of  the 
Erasmian  stamp. 

But  that  fiery  spirit,  which  panted  as  vehemently,  under 
the  white  robe  of  Dominic,  for  action  and  for  potential 
influence  over  men's  minds,  as  ever  Simon  de  Montfort's 
had  panted,  beneath  his  steel  habergeon,  for  warlike  fame  ; 
or  the  keen  intellect  of  Erasmus,  under  his  furred  gown, 
for  scholarly  predominance;  was  destined,  like  theirs,  to 
wear  out  the  mortal  covering.  Lacordaire  entered  the 
Academy  in  1860.     He  died  in  1863. 

Thcrircum-       Why  did  the  French  Academy  elect  the  author  of  the 

stances  of  the     /^  f  7       tit  -rv  1  i-iiii 

Academical  Confcrcnces  de  Notre  Dame  to  the  seat  which  had  been 
*^  i^I^ruLrr  vacated  by  Alexis  de  Tocqueville  ?  The  answer  will  turn, 
entered  the  ^^^   qj^   ^jjg   Acadcmv's   cstimatc  of  Lacordaire's  literary 

Academy.  •'  .  J 

power, — unquestionable  as  that  was,  within  its  narrow 
sphere, — but  on  the  political,  and  also  on  the  personal,  cir- 
cumstances of  the  moment.  When  the  contest  opened, 
the  Academy  had  before  it,  as  a  candidate  for  the  vacant 
chair,  M.  Henri  Martin,  whose  Histoire  de  France  it  had 
itself  crowned  more  than  once,  and  whom  the  public  had 
crowned,  in  its  own  pleasant  way,  more  frequently  still,  by 
exhausting  four  editions  of  his  book.  It  had,  as  another 
candidate,  the  eminent  publicist  and  administrator,  the 
Count  de  Came,  whose  Etudes  sur  V Histoire  du  Gouverne- 

*  Le  Fere  Lacordaire,  Orateur,  article  by  Sainte  Beuve  in  Le  Consti- 
tutionnel,  31  Dec.,  1849. 


HIS  WRITINGS  AND  HIS  PITHY  SAYINGS.       Ill 

ment  Representatif  en  France  united  literary  ability  with 
political  timeliness.  But  it  had  also  before  it  a  certain  M. 
Camille  Doucet,  the  author  of  a  long  series  of  not  very 
brilliant  dramas ;  the  historian,  in  a  fashion,  of  the  wars  of 
the  Empire  ;  and  the  Superintendent  of  the  department  of 
Theatres,  under  the  Minister  of  State  of  the  Emperor 
Napoleon  III ;  and  M.  Doucet  was  understood  to  be  the 
Emperor's  candidate.  The  contested  seat  was  won,  not  by 
the  accomplished  Historian,  or  by  the  eminent  Publicist, 
but  by  the  Dominican  Orator. 

The  Discourses,  and  other  productions,  of  Lacordaire  The  writ- 
have  too  much  savour  in  them  to  be  read  by  any  man  with  sayLgs  of 
indifference.  His  own  animation  is  so  contagious  that  it  ^'''^^'^^^^ 
is  sure  to  excite  either  warm  esteem,  or  vivid  repugnance. 
No  man,  in  our  own  day,  has  uttered  sayings  more  true, 
more  pregnant,  more  incisive,  or  more  provokingly  anta- 
gonistic to  accepted  and  well-grounded  opinions.  "  The 
great  barriers  of  nature,"  he  said  on  one  occasion, — "  the 
huge  mountains,  the  burning  sands,  the  trackless  steppes, — 
prevent  the  world  from  being  converted  into  a  narrow 
dungeon,  where  nothing  but  steam  could  be  breathed  in 
freedom."  On  another  occasion  :  "  After  a  century  or  two 
from  their  appearance,  only  very  few  of  the  books,  even  of 
the  great  writers,  are  read;  and,  frequently,  it  is  the  mans 
life  that  gets  his  books  a  reading."  On  another,  ''  We 
vanquished  Arius,  Mahomet,  and  Luther  ;  and  we  founded 
the  temporal  power  of  the  Popes,  lliose  are  the  four 
crowns  of  France."  Of  Pius  IX  he  once  said  : — "  When 
it  is  too  late, — if  it  be  ever  too  late  to  be  just, — Italy  will 
raise  a  statue  to  the  Washington,  whom  God  gave  her  and 
whom  she  rejected!"  When  he  deliberately  wrote : — 
"  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  more  hated  than  History, 
by  the  oppressors  of  the  people  and  the  enemies  of  God," 


112  LACORDAIRE'S  LAST  WORDS. 

it  never  occurred  to  him  that  if  one  of  his  readers  were, 
any  morning,  on  entering  his  study,  to  take  down  his 
copies  of  the  "  Indexes,  prohibitory,"  and  of  the  "  Indexes, 
expurgatory,"  of  Lacordaire's  own  Church,  he  might 
quickly  pen  a  very  pithy  commentary  on  that  pithy  saying. 
But,  w  ith  all  his  incoherencies,  the  restorer  of  the  Do- 
minicans in  France  was  an  honest  and  a  loveable  man. 
Nor  is  it  possible  to  read  the  affectionate  tribute  which  the 
Count  de  Montalembert  has  just  paid — as  much  with  the 
heart  as  with  the  pen — to  his  lifelong  friend,  without  some 
echo  arising  to  the  reader's  mind,  and  perhaps  to  his  lips, 
of  Lacordaire's  latest  prayer, — uttered  in  the  agony  of 
ueordairc-s  death: — "J/v  God!  open  to  me;  open  to  nieJ*     We  will 

last  words.  j  J.  J- 

humbly  hope  that  that  prayer  has  been  heard. 


THE  PRIZES  OF  THE  ACADEMY.  113 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    BARON    DE    MOXTYON  AND  HIS    "PRIZES  OF  VIRTUE." — 
THE    GOBERT  PRIZES    FOR    FRENCH    HISTORY. 

Of  late  years,  the  distribution  of  "  Prizes"  has  become 
a  prominent  feature  in  the  Academy's  proceedings,  mainly 
in  consequence  of  the  large  bequests  made  by  the  Baron 
de  Montyon,  and  by  Baron  Napoleon  Gobert.  In  England, 
social  nostrum-mongers,  speculative  tradesmen,  and  politi- 
cians in  distress,  have  given  very  evil  odour  to  Prize-essays. 
With  Prizes  "  of  Virtue"  we  have  never  yet  been  troubled. 

Gobert's  foundation  seems  to  have  been  the  consequence 
of  a  genuine  literary  ambition,  weighed  down  by  the  con- 
sciousness of  inadequate  faculty.  "  I  hope  that  I  may  be  Baron  go- 
enabled  to  do  with  my  possessions  what  I  have  not  been  for  works  on 
able  to  do  with  my  mind"  are  the  words  which  he  employs  J^^'^^  "'*" 
in  his  last  Will.  Intensely  patriotic  and  proud  of  his 
country — his  father  had  fallen  at  Baylen,  and  he  was  him- 
self the  godchild  of  Napoleon — Gobert  had  a  burning 
desire  to  write  French  history.  Finding  that  he  could  not 
do  that  worthily,  he  contented  himself  with  endowing  the 
Academy  with  valuable  prizes,  to  be  given  from  time  to 
time  to  the  authors  of  the  best  works  on  that  subject. 
Augustin  Thierry  received  from  this  source  9000  francs  a 
year  during  sixteen  years.  Thierry's  contributions  to  French 
history  are  too  recent  and  too  well  known  to  need  either 
estimate  or  emmieration  at  length.     So  long  a  retention  of 

8 


114  YILLEMAIN  ON  THE  FUNCTIONS  OP  HISTORY. 

T'Si  la   *^^^  ^^^^^^  History  prize  will  probably  be  exceptional.     But 
hours  partly  the  exccption  is  honourable  both  to  the  writer  and  to  the 
GoiH-rt  Prizes.  Acadeiuy.  The  sixteen  years  during  which  Thierry  enjoyed 
the  prize  witnessed  the  publication  of  the  Essai  sur  VHis- 
toire  de  la  formation  et  des  progres  du  Tiers-Mat,  and  of 
three  successive  volumes  of  the  Recueil  des  Monuments  de 
V Histoire  du  Tiers-Etat,  as  well  as  of  revised  editions  of  the 
author's  preceding  and  famous  works.    The  second  Gobert 
prize  was  awarded,  in  the  first  instance,  to  M.  Bazin,  for 
his  Histoire  de  Louis  XIII,  and  was  retained  by  him,  also, 
And   .ISO  until  his  death,  in  1851.     M.  Hefiri  Martin  then  obtained 
iienriMartin'  it  for  his  Histoire  de  France,  depuis  les  temps  les  plus  recules. 
In  awarding  this  prize  on  behalf  of  the  Academy,  M.  Ville- 
main  gave  an  excellent  summary  of  the  merits  of  the  book, 
and  concluded  it  by  taking  just  exception  to  a  phrase  which 
viiieniain    clothcs   iu  M.  Martiu's  words  the  thought  of  not  a  few 
oniilto^'"  writers  still  more  widely  known  to  fame  : — "  In  depicting 
L't'tSg  tlie  last  hours  of  the  great  and  terrible  Richelieu,— dying 
gieatmen.     gQ  pcaccfully  aftcr  so  many  deeds  of  vengeance,  that  a 
pious  bystander  could  not  refrain  from  saying  aloud,  '  This 
is  a  feeling  of  safety  which  affrights  me,' — the  historian 
(whose   functions   this   bystander   had   thus  anticipated), 
shares  the  proud  confidence  of  the  dying  man,  and  contents 
himself  with  the  reflection  : — *  Apparently,  these  great  mes- 
sengers of  Providence  feel  that  they  will  be  judged  on 
principles  which  the  mass  of  mankind  cannot  comprehend.' 
No,  Sir,  neither  in  the  sight  of  Divine  Providence,  nor  in 
the  sight  of  that  human  conscience  which  is  its  noblest 
work,  are  there  two  orders  of  moral  truths — two  unequal 
systems  of  justice.     Do  not  imagine  that,  either  for  a  man 
or  for  a  nation,  there  is  any  Dictatorship  of  genius  or  of 
numbers ;    any  mission — providential  or  fatal,  call  it  which 
you  will — that  gives  sanction  to  violence  and  wrong.     It 


THE  LIFE  AND  BEQUESTS  OF  MONTYON.       115 

is  to  prove  the  contrary  that  we  have  History,  and  that  to 
you  has  been  accorded  the  power  of  writing  it." 

On  Augustin  Thierry's  death,  M.  Henri  Martin  suc- 
ceeded, for  one  year,  to  the  first  prize.  The  second  was 
divided  between  two  works — one  of  them  being  M. 
Cheruel's  historical  treatise  De  V Administration  de  Louis 
XIV.  The  names  of  Lavallee,  and  of  Poirson,  occur 
among  the  subsequent  holders  of  the  Gobert  Prizes.  The 
Montyon  endowments  are  partly  for  works  of  literature, 
partly  for  acts  of  "  exemplary  beneficence"  and  "  virtue." 

Antoine  Jean  Baptiste  Robert  Auget,  Baron  de  Montyon, 
was  born  in  1733,  and  lived  until  1820.  In  the  course  of 
that  long  life  he  had  seen  many  vicissitudes.  In  his  earlier 
years  he  had  filled  many  distinguished  offices  in  the 
Magistracy  of  France.  He  passed  many  years  of  exile  in 
England.  Possessed  of  a  large  fortune,  and  of  wide  sympa- 
thies, one  of  his  main  channels  of  expenditure,  whether  in 
office  or  in  exile,  consisted  in  acts  of  beneficence.  In  his 
case,  charity  was  not  posthumous,  but  life-long. 

As  early  as  1780,  he  established,  in  the  French  Academy, 
an  annual  prize  of  1200  francs  for  that  work,  published 
during  the  year  preceding  each  adjudication,  which  "should 
seem  most  conducive  to  the  temporal  well-being  of  man- 
kind." In  this,  and  some  other  like  endowments,  he 
invested  a  capital  of  60,000  francs,  which  was  confiscated 
in  the  Revolution,  and  which  he  subsequently  himself 
replaced.  At  his  death,  in  1820,  he  bequeathed  to  the 
Academy  a  further  sum  of  20,000  francs,  yearly,  for  ever — 
one  half  to  be  employed  in  the  reward  of  publications 
"  useful  to  morals "  {utiles  aux  mceurs) ;  the  other,  in  the 
reward  of  virtuous  and  exemplary  deeds.  He  established 
other  prizes,  under  the  guardianship  of  the  Institute,  for 


IK)  THE   PRIZES  OF  COUNT  DE  MAILL^. 

the  encouragement  of  scientific  researches  and  of  sanitary 
improvements,  with  which  I  do  not  here  concern  myself. 
And  he  further  bestowed  on  the  Institute  an  interest  in  his 
residuary  estate. 

In  tlie  administration  of  the  literaiy  prizes,  the  Academy 
has  aimed  at  the  encouragement  of  such  works,  of  indis- 
putable and  high  utility,  as  yet,  from  their  subjects  and 
character,  are  little  likely  to  bring  pecuniary  return  to  their 
authors.  Works  on  psychology,  on  ethics,  on  social 
economy,  on  education,  on  the  history  of  literature,  appear 
in  the  list  of  books  rewarded,  and  among  the  names  of 
their  authors  are  some  of  the  best  names  of  the  last  and 
present  generations. 

Prizes  for  **  deeds  of  virtue"  trench  obviously  on  very 
dangerous  ground,  but  in  administering  them  the  Academy 
seems  to  have  displayed  remarkable  discretion  and  wisdom. 
Montyon's  gifts  have  been  made  to  soothe  the  closing  hours 
of  many  lives,  the  vigour  of  which  had  been  spent  in  acts 
of  self-devotion — sometimes  in  acts  of  lofty  though  obscure 
heroism — brought  at  length  into  light  by  no  effort  of  the 
doers.  By  judicious  management,  and  wise  restriction,  the 
publicity  of  such  rewards, — which  might  easily  have  become 
an  evil, — has  been  made  the  means  of  much  good. 

The  bene-  Evcry  Htcraturc  has  its  Chatterton,  and  every  time  that 
the  story  is  vividly  retold,  or  its  closing  scene  depicted 
once  again  by  a  painter  of  genius,  seed  is  sown  which  is 
likely  somewhere  or  other  to  bear  good  fruit.  The  two 
best  known  examples,  in  France,  of  the  untimely  nipping 
of  youthful  intellect,  are  linked  together  both  in  French 
poetry  and  in  the  annals  of  French  beneficence.  The 
author  who  wrote,  in  a  public  hospital,  the  famous 
verses : — 


ficent  prizes 
of  Count  de 
Maill6  Latour 
Landry. 


MALFILATRE  AND  GILBERT.  117 

"  Au  banquet  de  la  vie,  mfortune  convive, 
J'appams  un  jour,  et  je  meurs,"  &o., 

had  previously  written,  La  faivi  mit  au  tomheau  Malfi- 
Idtre  ignore ;  and  in  the  Will  of  Count  de  Maille  Latour 
Landry,  the  stories  of  Gilbert  and  of  Malfilatre,  are  men- 
tioned expressly  as  among  the  motives  wMch  induced  the 
testator  to  bequeath  to  the  French  Academy,  and  to  the 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  30,000  francs,  the  interest  of  which 
is  to  be  given  every  alternate  year,  "  to  some  young  ^vTiter 
or  artist,  poor  in  circumstances,  whose  "evident  talent  and 
promise  may  seem  to  deserve  encouragement  to  pursue  its 
career,  either  in  letters  or  in  the  arts."  The  administra- 
tion of  this  bequest  is  judiciously  left  to  the  Academies, 
in  turn,  without  the  publication  of  their  acts,  but  on  their 
proper  responsibility. 


1 1 8  RETROSPECTIONS. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SUMMARY     OF      THE     PRECEDING     CHAPTERS THE     RECENT 

ELECTIONS. — THE     RUMOURED     CANDIDATURE      OF     THE 
EMPEROR   NAPOLEON  III. 

Such  seem  to  me  to  be  a  few  of  the  chief  personages 
and  of  the  more  notable  incidents  which  he  scattered 
amongst  the  yet  uncollected  annals  of  an  institution,  to 
which  almost  every  great  writer  in  France,  for  more  than 
two  centuries,  has  been  proud  of  belonging.  Other  actors 
and  other  incidents  may,  possibly,  have  as  good  a  claim  to 
record  as  those  which  I  have  chosen.  But  enough  has 
been  said  to  vindicate  my  assertion  that  in  the  discussions, 
the  rivalries,  the  public  receptions,  and  the  public  rewards, 
of  the  French  Academy,  there  lie  vivid  reflections  of  those 
varying  aims  and  tendencies  in  a  great  national  literature, 
which  mark  epochs  in  the  intellectual  history  of  the  world 
at  large. 

Retrospec-  Withlu  that  suiall  arena,  the  mind  of  France  may  be  seen 
aTtiie  Tcl!  both  in  its  weakness  and  in  its  vigour.  When  Richelieu's 
demys    c„.  jj^g^j^y|.JQjj  ^^g  yg^  jjj  j|.g  cfadlc,  iuflatcd  and  indiscrimi- 

nating  panegyrics,  vapid  verses,  acrostics  on  the  fine  eyes 
of  Clelia,  or  sonnets  on  Dorinda's  dimples, — intermingled 
with  moral  essays,  in  prose  of  exceeding  dullness, — are  the 
staple  products.  For  a  time,  Lewis  the  Great,  Lewis  the 
Good,  even  Lewis  the  Beautiful,  is,  in  the  Academic  paeans. 


a    career  m- 
volves. 


WHAT  THE  ACADEMY  HAS  DONE.  119 

sung  to  all  sorts  of  tunes,  until  the  stock  resources  of 
diction  and  metaphor  are  exhausted,  and  the  praise  can  but 
repeat  itself: — 

"  Trope  nods  at  trope ;  each  figure  has  a  brother. 
And  half  the  Eloge  just  reflects  the  other," 

But,  very  soon,  themes  of  weight  and  pregnancy  take  the 
place   of  these   puerilities,    and  are  treated  worthily,     A 
series    of  clear  and  comprehensive   appreciations   of  the 
Worthies  of  France,  of  all  classes, — Poets,  Warriors,  States-     what  such 
men.  Writers,  Inventors, — stimulates  those  budding  intel- 
lects which,  in  some  happy  instances,  will  ripen  into  the 
Worthies  of  a  generation  to  come.     The  Academy  might 
fairly  boast  that  within  its  walls   the   real  glory  of  the 
Nation  began   to   outshine   whatever   there  was  of  mere 
tinsel  in  the  old  Monarchy.     Prosperous    Ministers   and 
haughty  Prelates  had  there,  at  times,  to  listen  to  useful  and 
homely  truths.     The  best  intellects  of  an  eminently  intel- 
lectual people  were  there  exerted  in  honouring,  alike  the 
achievements  of  the  greatest  minds  of  France,  and  deeds 
of   humble  self-devotion    performed  by  French  peasants. 
Nowhere  have  the  duties  of  men  of  letters,  as  well  as  their 
claims, — the  responsibilities  as  well  as  the  glories  of  the 
Pen, — been  dwelt  upon  more  impressively  than  in  the  hall 
of  the  French  Institute,  the  head-quarters  of  a  Literature 
to  which  (despite  the  flood  of  foulness  which  has  more  than 
once  swept  over  the  track  of  Fenelon  and  of  Racine,  of 
Pascal  and  of  Bossuet)  nations  near  and  remote — English- 
men and  Americans,    Scandinavians  and  Spaniards, — will 
ever  lie  under  deep  intellectual  indebtedness. 

Such  traditions  are  onerous.  In  recent  years  the  Aca- 
demy has  shown  that  it  can  resist  both  imperial  frowns 
and   imperial   flatteries.     It   has   repeatedly   asserted   the 


120     THE  RESPONSIBILITIES  OF  THE  ACADEMY. 

liberty  of  thought  and  the  freedom  of  speech  which  else- 
where seemed,  for  the  time,  to  have  been  stricken  down. 
But,  in  its  choice  of  weapons,  it  has  not  always,  I  think, 
kept  its  history  in  mind.  It  has  sometimes  chosen,  both 
for  vacant  seats  and  for  a  temporary  leadership,  men  with 
minute  claims  to  literary  honours,  but  gifted  with  fluent 
and  unscrupulous  tongues, — men  likely  to  prove  thorns  to 
the  hand  of  power,  but  little  likely  to  augment  the  trophies 
of  French  intellect. 

The  public  responsibilities,  and  perhaps  the  moral  influ- 
ence, of  the  French  Academy,  were  never  greater  than  now. 
That  influence  is  not  less  real,  because  it  is  often  unseen. 
To  brilliant  services,  and  to  great  memories,  the  Academy 
adds  a  certain  prestige  of  durable  vitality  which,  in  France, 
The  Aca-  }|jjs  become  rare.     When  Richelieu  founded  it,  there  stood 

(lemv's  dura-  i  •   i        i  •  ... 

hiiiiy,  and  sidc  by  side  with  the  new  society,  many  institutions  that 
seemed  to  have  quite  as  good  a  chance  of  long  life.  But 
most  of  these  have  been  either  suppressed  or  revolutionized. 
The  names  may  sometimes  be  the  same,  but  the  institutions 
which  bear  them  are  very  different.  The  Academy  itself 
has  undergone  several  changes  of  mere  form  and  routine, 
but  it  is  substantially  unchanged.  Here,  long  before 
1789,  men  of  the  "privileged  orders"  had  to  become  the 
supplicants,  before  they  could  become  the  associates,  of  other 
men  whose  claims  to  distinction  were  quite  independent 
of  birth  or  of  wealth.  It  is,  indeed,  alike  the  honour,  the 
safety,  and  the  great  advantage,  of  the  Academy — as  it  has 
also  been  of  other  institutions,  and  of  other  countries, — 
that  among  its  men  of  genius  there  have  always  existed  men 
of  high  birth,  as  well  as  men  of  lowliest  origin.  But  with 
their  Academical  seats,  the  accidents  of  fortune  had,  essen- 
tially, nothing  to  do.  And  here,  in  18G4, — if  Parisian 
gossip  may  be  accredited, — the  Emperor  Napoleon  III, 


substantial 
unity, 


CANDIDATURE  OF  NAPOLEON  III.  121 


The  assert- 
ed    caDdida- 


unsatisfied  with  that  official  protectorship  of  the  Academy 

which  adheres  to  the  throne,  as  well  as  undeterred  by  the  *•"•=  °^  "'* 

"  Emperor  Na- 

cutting  sarcasms  which  Mr.  Kinglake  has  recently  levelled  poieou  m 
at  him  as  "  a  sallow-faced  man  of  letters,"  is  a  candidate 
for  admission,  by  the  votes  of  an  absolute  majority  of  his 
future  colleagues. 

Even  at  the  election  of  April,  1863,  occasioned  by  the 
death  of  Duke  Pasquier,  some  pressure  (it  is  asserted)  was, 
in  the  first  instance,  put  upon  the  Academy  in  order  to 
induce  it  to  delay  its  choice,  in  order  to  introduce,  with 
befitting  pomp,  the  imperial  candidate.  It  seems  to  have 
been  thought  that  the  long-promised  Vie  de  Cesar,  might 
possibly  have  been  forthcoming  in  time  to  form  a  firmer 
pedestal  for  literary  honours  than  the  Idees  NapoUoniennes, 
the  treatise  Du  Passe  et  de  VAvenir  de  VArtillerie,  and  the 
Beveries  Polifiques.  The  fomial  candidature  which  on 
that  occasion  was  withheld,  has  since,  it  is  said,  been 
authoritatively  announced. 

The  reception  of  Napoleon  III,  as  "  one  of  the  Forty  of 
the  French  Academy,"  come  when  it  may,  will  be  a  sight 
worth  seeing.  It  will  be  as  strange  an  event,  in  its  way, 
as  was  the  imperial  visit  to  London  in  1852,  or  the  im- 
perial entry  into  Milan  in  1859.  It  will  now,  indeed,  lack 
one  circumstance  which  is  said  to  have  had  its  special 
charm  in  the  Emperor's  own  imagination,  and  which  could 
not  but  have  been  impressive  to  all  spectators.  Pasquier 
had  been  in  office,  under  the  old  Monarchy,  prior  to  the 
Convention  of  the  Notables.     He  had  served  Napoleon,  in     career  of 

1%  1         r-t  1  1  1         Pasquier,  one 

several  prominent  offices,  from  the  Consulate  down  to  the  of  the  lateiy 
close  of  the  first  Empire.     Under  the  restored  Bourbons,  he  dlmkkDs.*'^ 
had  taken  a  large  part  both  in  making  ministries  and  in  over- 
turning them.     He  had  been  the  most  intimate  and  most 
trusted    counsellor  of  Louis  Philippe.     He  had  presided  » 


122  CANDIDATURE  OF  NAPOLEON  HI. 

over  that  long  scries  of  political  trials,  which  fills  a  place 
so  unfortunately  conspicuous  in  the  annals  of  the  citizen- 
kingship,  and  includes  the  trial  of  a  famous  "  con- 
spirator," once  captured  at  Boulogne.  In  a  word,  the 
public  career  which  had  begun  before  the  Revolution  of 
1789,  had  continued  up  to  the  eve  of  the  Revolutioi;  of 
1848. 

It  could  not  but  have  been  a  memorable  thing  to  have 
seen  Pasquier's  chair  taken  by  the  heir  of  Napoleon, — the 
President  of  the  Republic, — the  successful  plotter  of 
December,  1851 — the  consummately  able  ruler  of  France, 
— the  half-unwilling  liberator  of  Italy.  By  Academic  usage, 
the  new  member  must  epitomize  the  qualities  and  the 
career  of  his  predecessor ;  the  president  of  the  day,  those  of 
the  new  member.  Completeness  or  impartiality  in  such  an 
epitome  is,  of  course,  as  little  desired  as  it  is  expected.  But 
there  is  no  want  of  Academic  precedent  for  plain  speaking, 
or  hard  hitting.  To  have  heard — with  whatever  inevitable 
reticences  and  suppressions — the  salient  features  of  two 
such  careers,  and  of  two  such  characters,  passed  in  elaborate 
review,  the  one  series  by  Napoleon  III,  and  the  other  series 
by  a  Montalembert  or  a  Guizot,  would  have  been  to  see 
history  unrolled  before  one's  eyes  as  in  a  living  panorama. 

This  is  now  a  bygone  possibility.  If,  however,  the  im- 
perial candidate  should  enter  the  Academy  as  the  successor 
of  Alfred  de  Vigny,  the  piquancy  of  the  scene  to  those  of 
the  beholders  who  may  chance  to  remember  that  remarkable 
reception  of  De  Vigny  himself,  in  1846,  whiqh  has  been 
already  described,  will  be  scarcely  less.  Whatever  its  date 
or  circumstances,  the  Emperor's  reception  into  the  French 
Institute — if  that  be  indeed  among  the  "  surprises  "  which 
the  Future  has  yet  in  store  for  us — cannot  fail  to  be  a  sight 
worth  beholdii)g. 


Dupanloup. 


BISHOP  DUPANLOUP'S   AVEBTISSEMENT.        123 

The  imperial  candidature  is,  by  no  means,  the  only  cir- 
cumstance which  has  given  adventitious  interest  to  the 
recent  Academical  Elections  in  Paris.  Bishop  Dupanloup,  ^^^j^'^^*"' 
of  Orleans,  has  thought  the  occasion  a  fitting  one  for  a  ^  Bishop 
zealous  attempt  to  make  theological  orthodoxy  one  of  the 
conditions  precedent,  which  must  henceforth  be  united  in 
the  persons  of  all  candidates  for  the  "  blue  riband "  of 
French  Literature. 

There  is  no  denying  the  duty,  or  the  necessity,  of  some 
regard  to  the  moral  and  social  qualities,  as  well  as  to  the 
literary  powers,  of  aspirants  to  that  eminent  distinction. 
But  morality,  and  a  lofty  aim  in  life,  is  one  thing,  and 
orthodoxy,  after  the  pattern  of  the  Roman  Church,  quite 
another  thing.  There  never  was  a  time  when, — in  France, 
as  elsewhere, — the  need  for  the  inculcation,  and  the  enforce- 
ment by  example,  of  high  aims  in  literature,  has  been  more 
obvious.  The  rapid  growth  of  the  merely  industrial  and 
material  interests  of  society,  and  the  wide  diffusion  of  the 
bare  rudiments  of  learning,  have  combined  to  supply  a 
new  gloss  to  the  text  of  the  old  complaints.  A  paradoxical, 
inflated,  and  enervating,  literature  more  than  keeps  its 
place  beside  the  honest,  pure,  and  healthful,  litera- 
ture. It  takes  advantage  of  the  multiplied  means  and 
agencies  of  modern  mechanism,  and  modern  pubHcity,  and 
needs  to  be  encountered  by  every  legitimate  influence  of  an 
opposite  tendency.  The  very  language  w^hich  the  illustrious 
writers  of  three  centiuies  have  ennobled,  is  daily  corrupted 
and  trampled  into  the  mire.  Here  lies  the  true  fleld  for 
Academic  exertion  and  example.  It  is  idle  to  attempt  to 
transport  the  Confessional  into  the  Institute  of  France. 

Among  the  Candidates  of  April,  1863,  was  M.  Littre,  a 
contributor  of  many  briUiant  articles  to  the  Bevue  des  deux 
Mondes, — one  of  the  continuators  of  the  Hwfoire  Litteraire 


124  THE  CANDIDATES  OF  1863. 


The  lite.  ^Q  France,  of  the  Benedictines,— one  of  the  Editors  of  the 
'IvlZT  Journal  des  Savans, — and  the  author  of  an  elaborate  Dic- 
tionnaire  Etymblogique  de  la  Langue  Franqaise,  now,  after 
a  labour  of  some  eighteen  or  twenty  years,  in  course  of 
publication.  But  M.  Littre  is  also  a  zealous  follower  of 
Auguste  Comte, — an  untiring  advocate  and  expounder  of 
the  so-called  "  Philosophy  of  Positivism." 

That  "Philosophy"  is  sufficiently,  and  very  obviously,  open 
to  criticism.  But,  at  this  date,  it  ought  to  be  quite  needless 
to  argue,  with  a  body  like  the  French  Academy,  in  favour 
of  freedom  of  opinion.  Life  is  too  short  for  the  constant 
iteration  of  rudimentary  propositions.  It  might,  surely, 
now  be  taken  as  settled  that  Truth  as  little  needs  the  aid 
of  social  stigma  or  of  social  penalty,  inflicted  on  its  op- 
ponents, as  it  needs  the  aid  of  prize  or  bounty-money, 
conferred  upon  its  friends. 
Bishop  i)u-      rpjjg  u  Avertusement  auoc  Peres  de  Famille  "  is  believed 

p.inloui)'s  01)-  ...  1  •         •  /» 

jcctions  to  to  have  had  some  share  in  bringing  about  the  rejection  of 
M.  Littre,  and  the  election  of  M.  de  Carne,  his  opponent. 
Of  their  relative  claims,  as  authors,  little  need  be  said. 
The  personal  question  is  of  small  moment,  in  comparison 
with  the  question  of  principle.  All  that  M.  Dupanloup 
has  to  urge  on  that  point,  he  seems  to  sum  up  in  these 
words  :  — "  It  is  puerile  to  suppose  that  I  have  any  such 
power  [t.  e.,  the  power  of  exclusion  from  the  Academy], 
but,  if  I  had  it,  I  would  unhesitatingly  use  it,  simply  be- 
cause I  esteem  the  Academy  very  highly ;  because  I  look 
upon  it  as  a  raised  platform,  whence  doctrines  descend  with 
loud  resonance ;  because  I  cannot  see  with  satisfaction  the 
proselytism  of  error  obtain  consecration,  and  lift  itself  to 
such  an  eminence."*  If  teaching  like  this  had  governed 
the  Academy  in  past  days,  it  would  have  been  shorn  of  its 

*  Avertisseinent,  &c.,  p.  11. 


THE  CANDIDATES  OF   1863.  125 

honours.  It  has  become  a  power  in  France  by  acting  on 
a  quite  different  doctrine.  Its  past  history  has  made  it  an 
object  of  reverence  to  the  lovers  of  Hterature  in  other 
countries,  just  because  that  history  records  repeated 
examples  of  its  efforts  on  the  side  of  free  thought, — free 
speech, — free  examination ;  and  of  its  successful  vindication 
of  the  vital  doctrine  that  the  real  interests  of  Truth,  and  the 
wise  policy  of  a  nation,  alike  demand  that  assertion  shall 
be  met  by  inquiry,  and  argument  by  argument. 

In  April,  1863,  all  the  candidates  possessed  some  literary    ^^^jj^"*" 
reputation,  although  in   veiT  different   proportions.     The  claims  of  the 

^  .  r       r  ^  Candidates  of 

successful  candidates,  M.  Dufaure  and  M.  de  Came,  are  im. 
eminent   publicists.      With   both    of   them,   literature   is 
simply  the  handmaid  of  politics.    Scarcely  any  thing  has  pro-  *  , 

ceeded  from  the  pen  of  either  which  has  not,  in  some  degree, 
a  political  aim.  The  imperial  candidature  stands  apart.  It 
is,  at  all  events,  a  significant  and  a  timely  tribute  to  the 
potencies  of  thought.  It  is  in  curious  contrast  with  the 
imperial  disdain  of  "ideologists"  and  " phrasemakers,'!  so 
often  asserted — more  asserted,  perhaps,  than  felt — during 
the  first  Empire.  It  may,  possibly,  be  another  indication 
that  a  policy  in  flagrant  conflict  with  the  best  intellects  of 
the  day  is  already  seen  to  be  a  policy  which,  sooner  or 
later,  must  suffer  extensive  change.  But  in  such  candidates 
as  M.  Littre  (candidates  whose  claims  rest  on  books)  the 
keenest  opponent,  if  an  honest  one,  can  hardly  fail  to 
recognize  pretensions  which  are  in  obvious  harmony  with 
the  thing  aspired  to.  Such  men  present  examples  of  bril- 
liant and  varied  literary  attainments,  in  union  with  eminent 
services  rendered  to  that  particular  branch  of  learning 
which  the  Academy  is,  by  its  very  charter,  especially 
1:)ouncl  to  promote,  and  with  a  lifelong  devotion  to  Litera- 


126  THE  CANDIDATES  OF   1863. 

ture,  for  the  love  of  it.  I  humbly  venture  to  think  that 
whenever  it  honours  such  a  career  the  French  Academy 
honours  itself.  It  is,  in  such  cases,  at  once  acting  in 
accordance  with  its  own  best  precedents,  and  is  practically 
rebuking  a  fanaticism,  from  the  dominance  of  which  no 
interests  would  suffer  more .  than  the  interests  of  good 
letters.  And  the  interests  of  Literature  in  France  are  the 
interests  of  remote  readers,  all  over  the  world. 


II. 

THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OE  RING  ALFRED. 
WITH  SOME  ACCOUNT  OE  AN  UNPRINTED 
CHRONICLE  AND  CHARTULARY  COMPILED, 
AT  WINCHESTER,  IN  THE  FOURTEENTH 
CENTURY. 


Beuoid  a  pupil  of  the  Monkish  gown, 

The  pious  Alfred,  King  to  Justice  dear  ! 

Lord  of  the  harp  and  lihorating  spear ; 

Mirror  of  Princes !     Indigent  Renown 

Might  range  the  starry  ether  for  a  crown 

Equal  to  his  deserts,  who,  like  the  year. 

Pours  forth  his  bounty ;  like  the  day  doth  cheer, 

And  awes  like  night  with  mercy-tempered  frown. 

Ease  from  this  noble  miser  of  his  time 

No  moment  steals ;  pain  narrows  not  his  cares. 

Though  small  his  kingdom  as  a  spark  or  gem. 

Of  Alfeed  boasts  remote  Jerusalem, 

And  Christian  India,  through  her  widespread  clime. 

In  sacred  converse  gifts  with  Alfred  shares. 

Ecdetuutical  Sonnets,  I,  xxvi. 


THE  BOOK  OF  HTDE  ABBEY. 


129 


CHAPTER  I. 


CONCERNING   TEE  BOOK  OF  EYDE  ABBEY. 

1.  Several  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Historians  of  our 
early  Church, — and  more  especially  such  as  wrote  either 
towards  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  or  in  the  earlier 
part  of  the  seventeenth, — quote  a  MS.  "Winchester  Chroni- 
cle, the  existence  or  the  fate  of  which  have  since  been 
unknown.  Some  of  the  passages  seem  to  point  to  similarity 
of  source,  as  well  as  of  subject,  with  the  well-known  Chro- 
nicle of  Thomas  Rudborne,*  printed  by  Wharton,  in  1691, 
in  the  first  volume  of  the  Anglia  Sacra.  But  it  is  seen,  on 
glancing  at  the  latter,  that  the  quotations  are  not  from 
Rudborne,  and  that  the  discrepancies  between  the  printed 
Chronicler  and  the  manuscript  Chronicler  are  much  greater 
than  the  resemblances. 

2.  The  titles  under  which  this  MS.  Chronicle  are  quoted     Quotations 
differ.     Michael  Alford,  in  his  elaborate  Annales  EcdefiicB  „  ^°'"  *''^ 

Book  of  Hyde 

AnglicancB,  cites  it   repeatedly  as  Annales   Cmiobii   Win-  '"  Romanist 
toniensis{e.ff.  Tom.  Ill,  pp.    161,   164,   165,  204,  206,  ""'""'^' 
208,  209,  &c.).     Nicholas  Harpsfeld,  the  author  of  the 

*  "  Ecclesiffi  "Wintoniensis  Historiam  fuse  prse  aliis  digessit  Thomas 
Rudbum,  Ecclesise  ejusdem  Monacliiis.  Novi  Monasterii  Wintoniensis, 
quod  ab  Hida  nomen  accepit,  fuisse  monacliuni  Baleus  male  tradidit. 
Ecclesiae  enim  Cathedralis  S.  Switheni  ccenobitam  fuisse,  turn  ex  plurimis 
H'ii'torice  Majoris  locis,  turn  ex  Prologo  ad  Historiam  Minoeem  liquet- 
Balei  errorem  Pitsius  et  Vossius  transcripserunt,"  &c.  Wharton,  ut 
supra,  I.  26. 

9 


130  JOHN  STOWS  EPITOME. 

Ilistoria  Anglicana  Ecclesiastica  printed  at  Douay,  in  1622, 
quotes  it,  sometimes  [e.g.  p.  159),  as  Annates  Novi  Coenobii 
Wintoniensis,  sometimes  merely  as  Annales  Wintonienses. 
Hugh  De  Cressy,  again,  in  his  Church  History  of  Brittany 
(p.  776),  having  to  speak  of  a  certain  oration  made  by  the 
Abbot  Grimbald — the  friend  of  King  Alfred — at  a  Council 
convened  in  London,  in  the  year  886,  writes  thus : — "  If 
the  reader  have  the  curiosity  to  peruse  the  whole  Oration, 
he  must  have  recourse  to  the  fore-mentioned  Annals  of 
Winchester,  or  the  book  called  Liber  de  Hida,  where  it 
hath  been  preserved  in  a  gratefull  memory  of  St.  Grimbald." 
I  doubt,  however,  if  Cressy  had  ever  seen  the  MS.  he  cites. 
Much  of  his  book  is  a  translation  and  compilation  from 
Alford.  It  was  completed  in  France.  And  there  is  reason 
to  think  that  his  knowledge  of  The  Book  of  Hyde,  flB  of 
other  English  MSS.  quoted  in  his  History,  was  at  second 
hand.  Both  Alford  and  Harpsfeld  had  passed  long  years 
of  study  in  English  libraries  and  in  English  country 
houses. 
j„hnstow'»  3.  But  the  traditional  knowledge  of  this  Hyde  MS.  did 
not  rest  simply  on  its  quotation  by  our  earlier  Church 
Historians.  Good  and  dihgent  old  John  Stow, — among 
his  other  and  multitudinous  labours, — came  across  it,  in 
August,  1572,  and  transcribed  rather  more  than  a  third  of 
its  contents.  One  is  sorry  to  observe,  on  looking  at  this 
unfinished  transcript — now  preserved,  as  No.  717  of  the 
Lansdowne  MSS.,  in  the  British  Museum  —  that  to 
him  paper  must  have  been  even  scantier  than  leisure. 
Apparently  to  save  paper,  Stow  has  made  his  copy  in  such 
a  cramped,  abridged,  and  mutilated  fashion,  that  in  many 
places  it  is  unintelligible.  And,  to  increase  the  difficulty 
arising  from  this  source,  when  the  transcript  came  to  be 
bound,  its  leaves  were  confusedly  intermingled  by  the  binder. 


partial  Epi' 
tome  of  the 
liodkofllvde. 


at     Sliirbnrn 
Castle. 


THE  MACCLESFIELD  MS.  AT  SHIRBURN.         131 

From  both  causes,  together,  the  learned  and  able  editor  of 
The  Church  Historians  of  England^  Mr.  Joseph  Stevenson, 
when  he  included  an  English  translation  of  Stow's  frag- 
ment in  the  fourth  volume  of  that  useful  publication,  fell 
into  several  grave  mistakes, — which  no  amount  of  Editorial 
acuteness,  indeed,  could  have  averted,  in  the  absence  of  all 
access  to  the  original  MS. 

4.  That  long-lost  text  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  dis-  Ducoveiy 
covering,  in  1861,  in  the  Library  of  the  Earl  of  Maccles-  ciesfidd  ms- 
field,  at  Shirburn  Castle  in  Oxfordshire.  It  is  on  vellum ; 
of  large  folio  size — 17f  inches  by  Uf  inches — written 
in  double  columns ;  has,  on  some  pages,  richly  illuminated 
borders  and  initial  letters ;  and  extends  to  78  pages,  or 
156  columns,  with  58  lines  to  each  column.  It  breaks  off 
in  the  middle  of  a  sentence,  and  indeed  of  a  word,  but, 
from  the  circumstance  that  on  the  later  pages  the  initials 
and  other  embellishments  are  sometimes  only  sketched  in 
outline,  and  sometimes  not  even  sketched,  but  only  indi- 
cated by  the  pen,  it  seems  probable  that  the  MS.  was  never 
completed  by  the  scribe.  It  is,  perhaps,  not  so  much — in 
the  usual  sense — imperfect,  as  unfinished.  The  Bind- 
ing is  only  of  the  earlier  part  of  the  1  8th  century.  Other 
particulars  of  the  age  and  character  of  the  book  will  be 
best  exhibited  by  fac-similes.  The  historians  who  have 
quoted  it,  and  the  antiquary  who  transcribed  its  earlier 
chapters,  are  alike  silent  as  to  its  local  habitation,  when 
seen  by  them  respectively.  The  MS.  itself  contains  nothing 
to  indicate  through  whose  hands,-  or  into  what  libraries, 
it  may  have  passed. 

5.  Those  who  care  to  learn  anything  of  the  history  of 
the  Library  in  which  the  book  was  discovered,  will  find  a 
statement  of  what  is  known  on  that  point  in  a  subse- 
quent portion  of  the  present  volume.     Here,  it  may  suffice 


132  THE  MACCLESFIELD  MS.  AT  SHIRBURN. 

to  mention  (first)  that  the  Shirbura  library  combines 
the  books  of  two  Enghsh  Collectors  of  the  end  of  the 
seventeenth  century  and  beginning  of  the  eighteenth, — 
namely,  Thomas  Parker,  first  Earl  of  Macclesfield,  and 
Lord  Chancellor;  and  William  Jones,  F.R.S.,  the  friend 
and  occasionally  the  amanuensis  of  Newton  j — and  also  a 
large  selection  of  the  choicest  books  of  that  ardent  lover  of 
fine  books  the  French  publicist  Nicholas  Joseph  Foucault, 
whose  life  has  just  been  narrated  by  M.  Baudry ;  and 
(secondly)  that  the  growth  of  the  Shirburn  Library,  by 
successive  bequests  to  former  Earls  of  Macclesfield,  had 
rendered  some  of  its  best  books  inaccessible  until  the 
present  Earl  directed  the  writer  to  re-arrange  it,  in 
1860-61. 

6.  Stow,  although  he  says  not  a  word  about  the  place 

or  ownership  of  the  MS.  which  he  partially  transcribed  in 

1572,  has  twice  given  a  sort  of  vague  description  of  the 

stow'8  de-  book.     In   the   sixth  volume  of  that  portion  of  his  MS. 

scriptiong    of  •       i     /->i    ii         •  >)  i  •    i        • 

the  appear-  "  HistoHcal  Collcctions  which  is  preserved  among  the 
""nt^o^the  Harleian  MSS.  (No.  542,  p.  123)  he^vrites  thus : — 
BookofHyde.  '*  Aiiiiales  MonasterH  de  Hyde  is  an  auncyent  booke 
conteynynge  the  orygynalls  and  encrease  of  that  howse 
w*^  the  notable  thyngs  that  hapned  there.  It  sheweth  the 
author  that  wrote  it  lyved  about  the  yere  .  .  ,"  but  the  date 
is  a  blank. 

Again,  at  the  end  of  the  fi*agmentary  transcript  already 
described  (Lansdowne  MS.,  No.  717)  he  writes: — 

"  Memorandum,  that  there  be  in  the  booke  of  Hide,  in 
greate  and  large  parchment  writen,  dyvars  of  thes  things 
before  writen,  and  many  other  testaments  of  certeyn  Saxon 
kings,  which  be  writen  in  bastard  Saxon,  and  translated 
into  latyn  and  englysshe." 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  BOOK  OF  HYDE.  133 

7.  The  most  eminent  of  living  English  antiquaries— /aczY^ 
princeps  as  respects  the  field  of  labour  we  are  now  con- 
cerned with — Mr.  T.  DufFus  Hardy,  Assistant-Keeper  of 
the  Public  Records,  after  examining  Stow's  fragment, 
wrote  thus:  "The  Book  of  Hyde  ...  is  a  reconstruction 
of  earlier  materials,  ....  compiled  within  that  monastery, 
and  thus  contains  details — especially  respecting  Alfred  and 
his  contemporaries, — not  elsewhere  to  be  found.  ...  It 
contains  citations  of  authors  whose  works  have  perished, 
and  who  are  known  only  by  this  manuscript,  and  by  the 
Chronicle  of  Thomas  Rudbome  which  has  much  in  common 

with  the  Liher  de  Hida No  MS.  copy  is  known 

but  that  of  John  Stow." 

8.  Here,  it  may  not  be  inappropriate  to  add  that  the 
words  "which  has  much  in  common  with  the  Liher  da 
Hida,''  apply — as  they  were  in  fact  applied — rather  to 
the  Lansdowne  fragment,  than  to  the  Macclesfield  MS. 
In  like  manner,  a  remark  made  by  Mr.  Stevenson,  that 
"  the  Book  of  Hyde  in  many  respects  corresponds  closely 
with  Asser's  Life  of  King  Alfred  "  must  be  taken  in  a  very 
limited  sense.  What  the  precise  extent  of  this  resemblance 
is  will  be  seen  presently.  Meanwhile,  it  suffices  to  record 
the  fact  that,  whatever  the  relevancy  of  Mr.  Stevenson's 
remark  as  regards  Chapters  XTI  and  XIII  of  the  Book  of 
Hyde,  as  it  appears  in  the  Macclesfield  MS.,  that  remark  has 

no  bearing,  whatever,  on  the  other  twenty-one  chapters.  « 

9.  The  Macclesfield  MS.  has  no  title.     It  commences,  at     Account  of 
the  top  of  the  recto  of  the  first  leaf  with  the  words  : — 

"  Repium  quod  modo  Anglia  no'iatur  ol'i  [iiomi- 
natiu",  olim]  dicebatur  Alhyon.  et  hoc  modo.  TJt  enim 
repperi    in   quadani    cronica    vetH-stissinia   qd  [quod] 


tlie  contfiits 
of  the  Btxik 
of  Hvde. 


134  CHAKACTER  OF  THE  BOOK  OF  HYDE. 

fait  in  regno  si/rie  qidam  [quidam]   rex  nobilis  nme 
[nomine]  Dioclitianus"  etc. 

10.  Beginning  with  the  old  story  of  Labana,  the  first 
chapter  closes  with  a  summary  of  English  history  until  the 
Norman  conquest.  Chapters  II  to  VIII,  inclusive,  describe 
individually  each  of  the  kingdoms  which  composed  the 
Saxon  Heptarchy.  The  ninth  chapter  is  devoted  to  those 
Saxon  kings  who  relinquished  their  eartlily  empire,  and 
gave  themselves  to  the  especial  service  of  Heaven,  by  embrac- 
ing a  monastic  life.  The  tenth  chapter  answers  the  question. 
Whence  was  the  origin  of  those  Saxons  who  reigned  in 
England  ?  The  eleventh  is  entitled  "  De  Monarchist  {i.e. 
"  Of  the  sole  monarchs.")  Thenceforward,  each  chapter  is 
the  Chronicle  of  a  single  reign — "  Cronica  Regis  Adulphiy 
— ''Cronica  Begis  Jlfredi  " — and  so  on.  But,  after  the 
thirteenth, — the  Chronicle  of  Alfred — although  the  division 
into  chapters  virtually  continues,  both  the  designation  and 
the  number  are  discontinued.  The  Macclesfield  MS. 
breaks  off  abruptly  in  the  middle  of  the  "  Cronica  Regis 
Cniffoms,"  [C.  XXIH]  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence;  and  in 
the  middle  of  the  ancient  name  of  the  see  of  Hexham^ 
thus : — 

"  Cnutone  regnu  [regnum],  anglor  [anglonim] 
ienente,  alfricus  tcyntoniensis  eccl'ie  [ecclesiae]  preposi- 
tus  assumitur  in  premlatu  [praesulatum]  Eboracensis 
ecclia  [ecclesiae].  Hiis  primu  [primum]  queritur 
cblra  [contra]  dunelfniil  [dunelmium]  epm  [episcopum] 
Edmundii  [Edmundumj  quo  jure  ipe  [ipse]  hangus" 

The  illuminated  initials  and  other  decorations  cease  to 
be  entii'cly  and  uniformly  finished,  with  the  recto  of  the 
seventeenth  leaf.     Some  exceptions  occur,  here  and  there, 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  BOOK  OF  HYDE.  135 

but  speaking  generally,  the  ornamentation  of  the  MS.,  from 
the  verso  of  leaf  17,  onwards,  is  in  various  stages  of 
incompleteness. 

11.  Each  chapter  or  "chronicle,"  from  the  thirteenth  to 
the  twenty-first  inclusive,  but  with  the  exception  of  that 
devoted  to  the  short  Hfe  of  St.  Edward,  King  and  Martyr, 
is  followed  by  an  appendix  of  Charters,  Wills  and  other  ,„,^^  ^^  '^[ 
documents,  relating,  more  or  less  directly,  to  grants  of  ^"."^ndS^of 
land  and  other  benefactions  conferred  on  the  Monastery  of  -The  Book  of 
Hyde.  The  wills ;  the  descriptions  of  boundaries ;  some- 
times— as  in  the  instance  of  the  very  curious  narrative  of 
the  "  Crimes  and  forfeitures  of  Wulfbold,"  and  of  the 
severe  courses  taken  with  him  by  King  Ethelred  and  his 
magnates  at  a  grand  Council  convened  in  London, — a 
portion  of  the  proem  prefixed  to  the  grants,  are  given  in 
Anglo-Saxon  (usually  in  a  very  corrupt  and  uncouth 
orthography)  and  in  middle  English,  as  well  as  in  Latin. 
In  most  cases,  such  portions  of  the  documents  exhibited  as 
are  given  in  the  three  languages,  are  given  with  equal  ful- 
ness in  each  language.  In  the  case  of  the  Narrative 
relating  to  the  unhappy  Wulfbold,  the  Latin  is  only  an 
abridgement.  Of  these  documents,  however,  a  fuller 
account  will  be  given  in  a  subsequent  chapter.  And  one 
of  them — previously  known  to  antiquaries — will  be  quoted 
at  length,  for  the  sake  of  its  curious  English  version. 


136  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


CHAPTER  II. 

RELATIVE  STATUS  OF  THE   EARLIER  HISTORIANS   OP  ALFRED. 

HARMONY     OP     THE    CHIEF    EVENTS    IN    HIS    LIFE,    AS 

NARRATED  (1)  IN  THE  SAXON  CERONICLE;  (2)  IN  THE 
AXXALS  ASCRIBED  TO  ASSER,  OF  ST.  DAVId's  ;  (3)  IN  TEE 
BOOK  OF  HYDE  ABBEY. 

1.  Ox  a  multitude  of  questious  connected  with  the  age, 
the  authorship,  the  genuineness,  the  variations  of  style,  and 
the  preferable  text,  of  the  Saxon  Chronicle,  antiquaries 
have  been  as  much  divided  in  opinion,  as  were  those  two 
knights  who,  meeting  at  a  cross-road,  fought   about  the 

Character    ^,^^^  colour  of  tlic  famous  shield.     But  on  the  one  point, 

of  the  t'axoii  r  ' 

chrouicic  that  in  the  Saxon  Chronicle  we  have  substantially  the 
earliest  historical  account  of  Alfred,  competent  opinions 
may  be  regarded  as  agreed.  It  seems,  also,  to  be  tolerably 
well  settled  that,  whoever  may  have  been  the  writer  of  those 
passages  which  relate  to  the  closing  years  of  Alfred's  life, 
the  writer  was  contemporary  with  our  venerated  king. 

2,  Scarcely  less  conflicting,  than  the  debates  about  the 
Saxon  Chronicle,  have  been  the  opinions  of  our  antiquaries 
as  to  the  sources,  the  authenticity,  and  the  historical  value, 
of  the  Annals  of  the  Exploits  of  Alfred,  ascribed  to  Asser. 
The  latest — and  certainly  not  the  least  able — of  the  modern 

cimm.tcr  biographcrs  of  Alfred,  Dr.  Pauli,  inclines  to  accept  Asser 
"Lmlcj  tf  '^s  substantially  genuine.  His  learned  and  accomplished 
Asser.         trauslator,  Mr.  Thomas  Wright,  on  the  other  hand,  is  quite 


EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF   ALFRED.  137 

certain  that  the  Life  of  Alfred  attributed  to  Asser,  "  cannot 
have  been  written  before  the  end  of  the  tenth  century,  and 
was  probably  the  work  of  some  monk  who,  with  no  great 
knowledge  of  history,  collected  ....  the  traditions  relating 
to  Alfred  which  were  then  current ;  joined  with  them  the 
legends  in  the  Life  of  St.  Neot,  and  the  historical  entries 
in  the  Saxon  Chronicle ;  and  to  give  greater  "  [appearance 
of?]  "authenticity  to  his  work,  published  it  under  the 
name  of  Asser."  The  weighty  fact  that  Lingard,  Hardy, 
Kemble,  Thorpe,  Lappenberg,  and  Stevenson, — as  well  as 
Pauli, — take  the  other  side,  very  happily  delivers  the 
present  writer  from  all  temptation  to  the  presumption  of 
offering  any  opinion,  of  his  own,  on  so  vexed  a  question. 

3.  Asser  ceased  to  narrate  tlie  exploits  of  Alfred  at  or 
about  the  year  890.  Alfred  lived  until  901.  Asser  is 
found  attesting  charters  in  904.*  According  to  the  ^//;?«/e'* 
Cambria,  he  survived  until  90S ;  according  to  the  Saxon 
Chronicle,  until  910.  Why  did  he  so  abruptly  break  off 
in  his  self-imposed  and  most  honourable  task  ?  The  ques- 
tion, at  present,  and  so  far  as  any  endeavours  of  mine  at 
its  solution  are  concerned,  admits  of  no  reply.  There  are 
more  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  hypothesis  that  we  have 
lost  some  portion  of  what  Asser  left,  than  there  are  in  the 
way  of  the  other  and — under  this  point  of  view — the  more 
awkward  hypothesis,  that  what  we  actually  have  includes 
interpolations,  and  additions,  which  Asser  never  saw. 

4.  IS'o  ancient  MS.  of  Asser  is  now  known  to  exist.  All 
that  can  be  usefully  stated  as  to  his  sources,  and  as  to  his 
text,  has  been  briefly  but  sufficiently  summed  up  by  Mr. 
Stevenson,  in  his  able  "  Preface  to  Asser  "  in  the  fourth 
part  of  "The  Church  Historians  of  England"  (1854),  to 
which  I  refer  the  reader. 

*  Kemble,  Codex  Diplomaticus  ^vi  Saxonici,  No.  437,  &c. 


138  EARLY  BIOaRAPHEllS  OF  ALFRED. 

other  early       5    Ethelwcrd,  "  thc  Patrician,"  wrote  towards  the  close 

Biograpliers 

of  Alfred.  of  the  tenth  century.  His  work  is  in  substance  a  mere 
compilation  from  the  Saxon  Chronicle,  but  from  a  copy,  or, 
so  to  speak,  a  re-cast,  of  that  Chronicle,  which  has  perished. 
Ethelwerd,  therefore,  though  a  copyist,  is,  in  a  sense,  an 
authority.  Florence  of  Worcester  seems  to  be  a  copyist, 
and  nothing  more.  His  respect  for  the  Saxon  Chronicle, 
and  for  Asscr,  is  so  great  that  he  copies  them  textually, 
whilst  his  modesty,  also,  is  so  great  that  he  lays  no  claim 
to  their  acquaintance.  He  is  also  much  indebted  to  that 
general  chronicler,  Marianus  Scotus,  whose  labours  have  so 
often  been  laid  under  contribution.  Henry,  Archdeacon 
of  Huntingdon,  who  compiled  his  Chronicle  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  twelfth  century,  abridges  the  earlier  historians, 
and  occasionally  adds  information  obtained  elsewhere.  The 
Chronicle  which  goes  by  the  name  of  "  John  of  Walling- 
ford "  largely  follows  Huntingdon ;  incorporates  with  its 
extracts  numerous  legends  of  saints;  and  seeras  to  have 
been  compiled  about  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century. 
But  of  its  real  authorship,  the  most  competent  inquirers 
are  quite  uncertain.  Simeon,  of  Durham,  in  addition  to 
the  contributions  he  has  levied  on  his  earlier  fellow-chroni- 
clers, has  much  matter  of  his  own.  He  was  the  contem- 
porary both  of  Florence  and  of  Henry  Huntingdon. 
Finally,  another  contemporary  of  those  historians,  William 
of  Malmesbury, — the  author  of  the  universally -known 
works  De  gestis  Begum  Anglia,  and  Be  gestis  Pontificum — 
has  contributed  an  item  or  two  to  our  knowledge  of 
Alfred  and  of  his  times,  although  "England's  darling" 
had  probably  rested  from  his  labours  some  hundred  and 
seventy  years,  when  Malmesbury  was  bom. 

6.  The  Liber  de  Hida — so  far  as  concerns  the  parentage, 
the  life,   and  the  reign  of  Alfred — confines  its  express 


EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED.  139 

quotations  from  early  chroniclers — and  those  quotations  are 
of  little  importance — to  Florence  of  Worcester,  and  to 
Henry  of  Huntingdon.  But  it  quotes  largely  the  Policroni- 
con  of  Ralph  of  Chester ;  the  lost  treatise  of  Vigilantius,  Be 
Basilica  Petri ;  the  lost  Epistola  ad  Monachos  Nigros  in 
Anglia  of  Bonagratia  de  Villa  Dei ;  and  the  lost  books  of 
Gerard  of  Cornwall,  Be  gestis  Regum  Westsaxonum. 

7.  For  the  purposes  of  this  little  Essay  it  will  suffice  to 
compare, — with  the  utmost  possible  brevity, — the  principal 
events  in  Alfred's  life  which  it  narrates,  with  the  correspond- 
ing statements  in  the  Saxon  Chronicle,  and  in  Asser.  And 
the  columnar  form  will  best  exhibit  both  the  agreement 
and  the  diversities  existing  between  the  old  authorities 
and  the  new  one.  I  translate  the  Latin  of  the  Book  of 
Hyde,  as  it  stands  in  the  Macclesfield  MS.,  and  quote  the 
other  writers,  in  the  existing  versions,  nearly  as  I  find 
them : — 


140 


EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


A.D. 

849-855. 


ASSEB. 


[840.]     In  the  year  849  was  born  .Elfred 

in  the  royal  vill  which  is  called  Wanating,  in 
Berrocscire. 


[853.]     ^thelwulf  sent  his  son  jElfred  to 
Rome  ,  with  an  honourable  escort,  both  of  nobles 

and  commoners Pope  Leo  

anointed  for  king  the  aforesaid  child  -Slfred, 
and  confirmed  him,  receiving  him  as  his  son  of 
adoption. 

[855.]     In  the  same  year,  he  went  to  Rome 
with   much  honour,  taking  with  him  his  son 

Alfred, because  he  loved  him  more  than 

his  other  sons,  and  remained  there  a  whole  year. 


"  In  this  place  I  think  it  right  to  relate  as 
much  as  has  come  to  ray  knowledge,  about  the 

character  of  my  revered  Lord  Alfred, 

during  the  years  in  which  he  was  an  infant  and 

a  boy As  he  advanced  through 

the  years  of  infancy  and  youth,  his  form  appeared 
more  comely  than  that  of  his  brothers  ;  in  look, 
in  speech,  and  in  manners  he  was  more  graceful 
than  they.  His  noble  nature  implanted  in  him, 
from  his  cradle,  a*  love  of  wisdom  above  all 
things ;  but,  with  shame  be  it  spoken,  by  the 
unworthy  neglect  of  his  parents  and  nurses,  he 
remained  illiterate  even  till  he  was  twelve  years 
old  or  more ;  but  he  listened  with  serious  atten- 
tion to  the  Saxon  poems,  which  he  often  heard 
recited,  and  easily  retained  them  in  his  tenacious 
memory.  He  was  a  zealous  practiser  of  hunting, 
in  all  its  branches,  and  pursued  that  art  with 
great  assiduity  and  success 


EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


141 


A.D. 

853-855. 


SAXON    CHRONICLE. 


iThe  Saxon  Chronicle  notices  no 
event  in  the  Life  of  Alfred  prior  to 
his  first  visit  to  Borne,  xisually  ascribed 
to  the  year  853.] 

[853.]  K.  ^thelwulf  sent  his 
son  Alfred  to  Rome.  Leo  was  then 
Pope  of  Rome,  and  he  consecrated 
him  king,  and  took  him  for  his  son 
at  confirmation. 


[855.]  jEthelwulf  went  to  Rome 
in  great  state,  and  dwelt  there  twelve 
months. 


A.l).  BOOK  OF  HYDE  ABBEY. 

853-855.  (MACCLESFIELD    MS.) 


[853.]  Alfred,  because  he  was 
more  beloved  by  his  father  than  the 
rest  of  his  sons,  was  sent  to  Pope 
Leo  V  [sic  for  IV].  The  Pope,  at 
his  father's  request,  received  him 
with  great  honour  and  caused  him 
to  be  anointed  King  of  the  English. 


[855.]  Thie  most  religious  king 
Athulf,  not  long  afterwards, — 
namely  in  the  year  following  that  in 
whicb  his  anointed  son  Alfred  had 
returned  to  England  from  Rome, — 

again  took  him  thither, and 

there   remained  with  him  a  whole 
year  

"  He  also  sent  his  most  Christian 
son  (beloved  with  pre-eminent  afiec- 
tion,*  but  already  assailed  by  an 
incurable  disease)  to  be  healed  by 
St.  Modewenna,  who  was  then  living 
in  Ireland 

King  Etheldred  was  dearly  beloved, 
above  the  rest  of  his  brothers,  by 
the  most  illustrious  prince  Aifred, 
on  account  of  his  eminent  virtues 
which  daily  increased.  And  hence, 
Alfred,  the  skilful  leader  and  gene- 
ral in  arms,  often  opposed  himself 
to    the  Danes,    at    the    walls    of 

*  "  Regalem  indolem  plus  ceteris  dilectam." 


142 


EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


A.D. 

855. 


ASSEB. 


"  On  a  certain  day  his  mother  was  sljowing 
him  and  his  brothers  a  Saxon  book  of  poetry, 
which  she  held  in  her  hand,  and  said,  *  Which- 
ever of  you  shall  soonest  learn  this  volume,  shall 
have  it  for  his  own.'  Stimulated  by  these  words, 
or  rather  by  a  divine  inspiration,  and  allured  by 
the  beautifully  illuminated  letter  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  volume,  he  answered,  before  any  of 
his  brothers — his  seniors  in  age,  but  not  in 
grace — *  Will  you  really  give  that  book  to  him 
who  can  first  learn  to  understand  it,  and  to  re- 
peat it  to  you  ? '  His  mother  smiled,  and  con- 
firmed her  promise In  due  time,  he  had 

learnt  and  he  recited,  his  task.  After  this,  he 
learned  '  the  daily  course,'  that  is,  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  Hours,  and  afterwards  certain  Psalms 

and  Prayers But,  sad  to  say !  he 

was  unable  to  gratify  his  most  ardent  wish  to 

acquire  the  liberal  arts,  for  lack  of 

teachers When  he  was  more  advanced 

in  life,  he  was  harassed  by  so  many  diseases,  un- 
known to  all  the  physicians  of  this  island,  as 
well  as  by  the  internal  and  external  anxieties  of 
sovereignty,  and  by  the  continual  invasions  of 
the  Pagans,  and'  had  his  teachers  and  writers, 
also,  so  much  disturbed,  that  there  was  no  time 
for  reading.  But  yet  among  the  impediments 
of  such  a  life,  from  infancy  up  to  this  present 
time,  and,  as  I  believe,  even  until  his  death,  he 
continued  to  feel  the  same  insatiable  desire  of 
knowledge,  and  still  aspires  after  it." 


EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


143 


8 AXON  CHBOKICLE. 


A.D.  BOOK    OF    HYDE    ABBEY 

855.  (MACCLESFIELD  MS.) 


Wilton,*  in  defence  of  that  leader  of 
a  holy  lil'e,  King  Etheldred 


Thus,  King  Alfred,  most  re 
nowned  among  a  thousand,  came  of 
the  nation  of  the  Britons,  and  thus 
of  the  noble  blood  of  the  Trojans. 
After  he  had  passed  his  twelfth  year 
he  committed  to  memory,  like  a 
teachable  child,  the  Saxon  poems. 
In  hunting,  he  was  eminent.  In 
architecture,  supreme.  The  Psalms 
and  Prayers  he  collected  into  one 
volume  which  he  called  'Manual,' 
that  is  a  Handbook,  and  carried  al- 
ways about  him.  In  grammar  he 
was  less  skilled,  because  at  that 
time,  there  was  not  any  teacher  of 
grammar  in  the  kingdom.  For  this 
reason,  and  by  the  advice  of  Abbot 
Neot,  whom  he  frequently  visited, 
he  established  public  schools  of 
various  arts,  which  in  many  points 
brought  advantage  to  the  city  [?]. 
For  Alfred,  the  bountiful  Almsgiver, 
the  most  devout  worshipper  at 
mass,  the  most  studious  searcher- 
out  of  unknown  arts,  called  to  his 
Court  the  most  holy  confessor 
G-rimbald  from  France, — a  monk 
skilled  in  literature  and  in  music, — 
together  with  the  priest  and  monk 
John,  a  man  of  sharpest  intellect 
and  universal  learning,  and  with  the 
venerable  Asser,  a  man  profoundly 
versed  in  literature.     He  also  in- 


Wyltoniensium  muru  contra  danos  se  opposuit,  &c. 


144 


EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OP  ALFRED. 


A.D. 

868-871. 


ASSEB. 


[S68.]  Alfred,  at  that  time  occupying  a  sub- 
ordinate station,  asked  and  obtained  in  marriage 
a  noble  Mercian  lady,  daughter  of  Ethelred, 
surnamed  Mucil  ("  The  Big"),  Earl  of  the  Ghuni 

Ethered  and  Alfred 

went   with   an    immense   army,   and   entering 
Mercia  came  to  Nottingham,  eager  for  battle 

but  the  Mercians   and  the  Pagans 

made  peace,  and  the  brothers  returned  home. 


[871.] . . .  Ethered  and  Alfred  united  theirforces, 
and  approached  Reading  with  their  combined 
armies.  "When  they  had  come  to  the  gate  of  the 
citadel  they  cut  down  all  the  Pagans  whom  they 

found  on  the  outsid* 

At  Ashdown  [' Aescesdun '  ]  

t^e  Christians,  like  the  Pagans,  divided  their 
forces  into  two  bodies Alfred  march- 
ed up  to  the  battlefield  promptly  with  his 
followers,  as  we  have  heard  it  related  by 
truthtelling  eye-witnesses.  His  brother.  King 
Ethered,  remained  at  prayer  in  his  tent,  hearing 
mass,  distinctly  affirming  that  he  would  not  de- 
part alive  before  the  priest  had  finished  the  ser- 
vice  Alfred, when  he  could 

no  longer  sustain  the  assault  of  the  foe,  unless 

he  either  retreated or  rushed  on, 

without  waiting  for  his  brother,  relying 

on   God's    assistance,  drew  up   his   men   in  a 

dense    body    and    advanced At 

length,  when  both  armies  had  struggled  with 


THE   EARLY   BIOGRAPHERS   OF   ALFRED. 


145 


A..D. 

868-871. 


BAXON    CHHONICLE. 


[868.]  ^thered  and  Alfred  ... 
went  with  the  West-Saxon  power 
into  Mercia,  as  far  as  Nottingham 
...  but  there  was  no  great  battle, 
and  the  Mercians  made  peace. 


[871.]    About    three    days 

after,  King  ^thered  and  ^Elfred 
his  brother  led  a  large  force  to 
Reading,  ...  and  there  was  great 
slaughter    made    on    either    hand 

And  after 

this,  King  ^thered,  and  Alfred  his 
brother,  fought   against  the  whole 

[Pagan]  Army  at  ^scesdun 

Alfred  fought  against  the 

division  under  the  earls 

Fourteen  days  after, 

^thered  and  Alfred  fought  ...  at 
Basing,  but  the  Danes  conquered. 

And  two  months 

after,  they  fought  against  the  army 
at    Meretun.     And,    after    Easter, 

King  ^thered  died 

Mlfred  succeeded,  and,  about  one 
month  after,  fought  against  the 
Danes  at  AVilton,  and  put  them  to 


A.D.       BOOK  OF  HTDE  ABBEY 
871.       (MACCLESFIELD  MS.). 


vited  John,  a  monk,  from  the  far- 
thest parts  of  Wales,  namely  from 
the  Monastery  of  St.  Davids,  that 
he  might  instruct  the  nobles  in 
learning 


[871.]  At  Ashdown, 

constrained  by  necessity,  Alfred 
gave  battle  before  King  Ethelred 
his  brother,  then  attending  mass, 
was  ready The  Chris- 
tians, led  by  Alfred,  climbing  the 
hill,  slew  Osrith,  king  of  the  Danes, 
with  five  of  the  enemy's  generals 
and  many  soldiers,  and  pursued  the 
remnant,  all  day,  as  far  as  Eeading. 

Ethelred,   whom  the 

glorious  prince  Alfred  had  forced  to 

reign  before  himself,  died  

leaving  his  kingdom  to  his  dearly- 
loved  brother. 

K.  Alfred,  most  devout  in  Chris- 
tian faith  and  piety,  fourth  in  order 
of  birth,  who  while  his  brothers 
reigned  was  always  in  a  secondary 
station,  succeeded  after  Ethelred — 
best  loved  in  the  concordant 
10 


146 


THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


A.D. 

871. 


ASSEB. 


extraordinary  courage  and  fiercenesB,  the  Pagans, 

through  the  Divine  justice,  and  after  the 

slaughter  of  the  greatest  part  of  them,  fled  dis- 
gracefully.    One  of  their  two  kings,  and  five 

chiefs,  perished Fourteen 

days  after,  Ethered  and  his  brother  united  their 

forces  and  advanced  towards  Basing, 

and  triumphed. 

After  Easter,  in  the  same  year,  K.  Ethered 

went  the  way  of  all  flesh Alfred,  who  up 

to  that  time  had  only  held  secondary  rank, 

undertook  the  government  of  the  whole  realm. 


And,  when  one  month  had  elapsed,  he  fought 
a  very  severe  battle  against  the  whole  force  of 

the  Pagans,  on  a  hill  called  Wilton  

But  the  Pagans  deceived  their  over-sanguine 
pursuers,  returned  to  the  battle  and  claimed  the 
victory 

Besides  this,  there  were  endless  skirmishes, 
both  by  day  and  night,  in  which  Alfred  was  often 
engaged 


*  "  Alfredus,  princeps  in  fide  et  religione  zpiana  vigilantissimus,  qrtns 
natn,  qui  regnantibus  fratribus  semper  fiierat  secondarins,  post  Ethel- 
drediun,  in  unicordie  fiatemalis  armariolo  predilectum,  ad  integram 
monarchiam  Westsaxonie  successit." 

[The  reader  who  may  have  inclination  and  opportunity  to  look  at  the 
translation  of  Stow's   fragment,   as   given  in  The  Church  Historiaru  of 


THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


147 


SAXON   CHRONICLE. 


flight  for  a  good  part  of  the  day, 


A.D.  BOOK    OF    HYDE    ABBEY 

871-874.         (MACCLESFIELD    MS.). 


brotherly  breast — to   the   sole  mo- 
narchy of  the  West  Saxons,  &c.*... 


This  glorious  Prince  had  a  bat- 
tle with  the  Danes  at  Wilton,  in 
which  both  armies  were  in  great 
peril.  And  so  in  the  first  year  of 
his  reign  he  fought  with  the  Danes 
nine  times  in  the  open  field 


[874.]  In  the  third  year  he  made 
peace  with  them.  But  in  one  night 
they  killed  all  his  cavalry.  The  great 
king  pursued  them  to  Exeter 


England,  will  see  that  the  many  imperfections  and  confusions  of  that 
fragment  have  led  even  so  experienced  and  accomplished  an  editor  as 
Mr.  Stevenson  into  several  mistakes.  Of  these  mistakes,  and  also  of  many 
omissions — even  in  that  part  of  the  "  Book  of  Hyde  "  which  is  professedly 
given, — Stow's  illegibility  and  haste  are  obviously  the  cause ;  as  will  be 
perceived,  at  a  glance,  if  the  Lansdowne  MS.,  No.  717,  be  itself  referred  to,] 


148 


THE  EARLY   BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


A.D. 

875-877. 


▲8SES. 


[875.] Alfred  fought  a  naval  battle 

against  six  pagan  vessels  and  took  one  of  them, 
whilst  the  rest  escaped. 


[876.] K.  Alfred  entered  into 

a  solemn  covenant  with  the  Pagan  army,  on 

condition  that  they  should  depart, giving 

him  such  hostages  as  he  chose.    They  also  swore 

an  oath  on  all  the  relics  that  they 

would  immediately  leave  his  realm But, 

acting  falsely,  they  broke  the  treaty, and 

slew  all  the  cavalry  around  the  King 

[877.] Kmg  Alfred  ordered  boats 

and  galleys  to  be  built  throughout  the  realm, 

and  in  these  he  placed  expert  seamen 

to  guard  the  approach  by  sea.     He  himself 

hastened  to  Exeter,  and  besieged  the 

Pagans  within  that  city 

At  Suanavic  [Swanwich]  in  the  same  year,  a 
hundred  and  twenty  of  their  ships  perished,  while 
K.  Alfred  pursued  their  cavalry  to  Exeter 
where  he  [again]  received  hostages. 


THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


149 


A.D. 

875-877. 


SAXON   CHEONICLE. 


[875.]  In   the     Summer, 

Mlfred  went  out  to  sea  with  a  fleet, 
and  fought  against  the  forces  of 
seven  ships.  One  of  them  he  took, 
and  put  the  rest  to  flight. 

[876.]   Afterwards  the 

King  made  peace,  and  the  Pagans 
gave  to  him  hostages,  and  swore 
oaths  to  him  on  the  holy  ring 


[877.]  K.  Alfred  with  his  forces 
rode  after  the  [Pagan]  Army  as  far 

as  Exeter Their  fleet 

was  overtaken  by  a  great  storm  and 
a  hundred  and  twenty  of  their  ships 

were  wrecked  at  Swanawic 

They  delivered  hostages  to  Alfred 
and  then  observed  the  peace 


[878.]  Alfred,  with  a  small  band, 
retired  with  difficulty  to  the  woods 
and  the  moors 


And  after  this,   at   Easter,  con- 
structed  a   fortress    at   ^thelney, 

and  rode 

to  Ecgbyrth's-stane 

and  to  Ethandune,  and  there  fought 
against  the  whole  [Pagan]  army  and 

put  them  to  flight  

and  that  army  delivered 


A.D.  BOOK   OF   HYDE   ABBEY 

877.  (MACCLESFIELD    MS.). 


[877.]  In  the  sixth  year  of  his 
reign,  ...  the  Danes,  sailing  from 
Wareham  towards  Exeter,  lost  a 
hundred  and  twenty   vessels   in   a 

storm  at  sea  Alfred 

passed  a  precarious  and  restless  life 
in  the  woods  of  Somersetshire,  for  he 
had  nothing  to  live  upon,  save  what 
he  caught  by  fowling,  by  fishing,  or 
by  hunting 

\_Then  follows  the  story  of  the 
vision  of  St.  Cuthbert.'\ 

"  Encouraged  by  the  admonitions 
of  St.   Cuthbert,  the   King  issued 

from  his  covert ;  and,  in  the 

garb  of  a  minstrel,  entered  the  tents 
of  the  Danish  King,  and  thence, 
having  explored  them,  returned  to 

Ethelingey And,  presently, 

overthrew  his  foes,  by  sudden  on- 
set, with  great  slaughter.   ...  With 


150 


THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


A.D. 

878. 


ASSER. 


[878.] In  that  year,  Alfred, 

with  a  few  of  his  nobles  and  soldiers,  passed  a 
restless  life  in  much  anxiety  among  the  wood- 
lands and  marshes  of  the  County  of  Somerset. 

As  we  read  in  the  Life  of  St. 

Neot,  he  was  long  concealed  in  the  dwelling  of 

one  of  his  own  cowherds [^Then  follotos 

ihe  well-Jcnown  story  of  the  country  housetpife  and 
the  cakes,  and  also  the  famous  passage  on  the  in- 
firmities and  the  afHiction  of  the  Kiny."] 

K.  Alfred  formed  a  citadel  in  a  place  called 
"  uEthelingaeg,"  whence  he  made  ceaseless  as- 
saults   upon   the   Pagans  and,   in 

the  seventh  week  after  Eaater,  he  rode  to 
Aecgbryht's-stone  [Bmton-Deverel  ?  in  Wilts], 

in  the  Eastern  part  of  Selwood 

and  thence  removed  his  standard 

to  Ethandune  [Edington],  where  he  contended 
in  close  phalanx  against  all  the  Pagan  forces 

and,  by  Divine  aid,  won  the  victory, 

and  pursued  the  enemy  with  great 

slaughter 

"  Godrum,"  their  king he  received, 

at  a  place  called  Aire,  near  ^thelingaeg,  as  his 
adopted  son,  and  raised  him  from  the  sacred 
font.    His  chrism-loosing  took  place  at  the  royal 

vill  called  "Waedmor And 

King  Alfred  bountifully  gave  him  many  excel- 
lent dwellings 


THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


151 


A.D. 

878. 


SAXON    CHEONICLE. 


hostages  to  him,  with  many  oaths. 


[878.]  And  the  King  was  God- 
father to  "  G-uthrum  "  at  baptism 
at  Aulre,  and  his  chrism- 
loosing  was  at  Wedmore ;  

and   -Alfred  greatly  honoured  him 
with  gifts 


a.d.  book  of  hyde  abbey 

878.  (macclesfield^ms.). 


the  help  of  the  people  of  "Wilts, 
Somerset,  and  Hants,  he  built  a 
citadel  atEthelingey  ("  the  Island  of 
Nobles"),  whence,  rushing  on  the 
enemy,  he  repeatedly  overthrew 
them.  At  length,  receiving  hostages, 
he  took  their  king,  "Gutrus,"  to  the 
font  with  twenty  of  his  best  men, 
and  gave  to  him  the  name  of  Athel- 
stan But  the  Ethiop  can- 
not easily  change  his  skin 

Gutrus  remained  a  tyrant  for  twelve 

years He  was  succeeded  by 

a   Dane   named    Echric 


Alfred,  like  a  second  Mattathias, 

fought,  in  one  year,  nine 

battles  against  the  Danes,  and  at  last 
the  victory,  through  Divine  Provi- 
dence, remained  with  him 

But 

the  provinces  which  that  renowned 
prince  had  given  to  the  Danish  king 

to  dwell  in,  not  to  govern, 

threw  off  their  allegiance,  when 
"Gurmund"  rebelled  against  his 
spiritual  father;  and  thus  Alfred, 
like  his  brother  Ethelred,  lost,  by 
his  own  goodness,  that  sole  Mo- 
narchy of  all  England,  which  through- 
out  his  life  he  could  never  recover. 


152 


THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


A.]>. 

S82. 


ASSER. 


[882.]     In  this  year,  Alfred  fought  a  naval 

battle, and   captured  two  of  the 

Pagan  ships 


THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS   OF   ALFRED. 


153 


A.D. 

882-883. 


SAXON    CHKONICLE. 


A.D.  BOOK    OF    HYDE    ABBEY 

881-883.  (MACCLESFIELD  MS.). 


[882.]  Alfred  went  out  with  his 
ships  and  fought  against  the  Danes, 
and  took  two  of  their  ships 

[883.]  That  same  year,  Sighelm 
and  -'Ethelstan  carried  to  Rome  the 
alms  which  the  King  had  vowed  to 
send  thither,  and  also  to  India,  to 
St.  Thomas  and  St.  Bartholomew, 
when  he  sat  down  against  the  army 

at  London and  largely 

obtained  the  object  of  his  prayer. 
And    Marinus 


[881  ?]  In  the  same  year,  on  the 
death  of  Bishop  Tunbert,  Alfred 
appointed  Dunewulph  to  the  see  of 
Winchester.  Discovering  the  na- 
tural talent  of  the  man  whilst  he 
was  yet  a  swineherd,  he  sent  him, 
though  advanced  in  life,  to  be  in- 
structed in  learning.  Never  did 
Alfred  allow  any  unlettered  person 
to  acquire  rank  in  the  Church.  ... 

Alfred  then  repaired  Septonia, 

which  is  Shaftesbury  ; 

received  from  Pope  Martin  [Martin 
II,  882—884]  a  large  piece  of  the 

Cross ;  and,  in  the 

seventh  year  of  his  reign,  

compelled  the  Danes   to   raise  the 

siege  of  Rochester 

In  the  same  year,  he  repaired  Lon- 
don,    and  entrusted  the  keep- 
ing of  it  to  Ethelred,  Earl  of  the 
Mercians 


[883.]  About  this  time  the  illus- 
trious king  sent  his  alms  to  Rome 
and  to  India,  and  built  two  monas- 
tries,  at  Ethelingesye  and  at  Shaftes- 
bury  

On  a  certain  day,  while  the 
Danes  were  pressing  hard  upon  him, 
he  refused  to  leave  the  Church  in 
which  he  was  hearing  Mass,  until 


154  THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OP  ALFRED. 


ASSEB. 


THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHEKS  OF  ALFRED. 


155 


A.D. 

883. 


SAXON  OHBONICLE. 


the  Pope  sent  "  Lignum  Domini  " 
to  K.  Alfred. 


A.D. 

883. 


BOOK    OF    HYDE    ABBEY 
(MACCLESFIELD    MS.). 


the  service  was  over,  but  as 

soon  as  it  was  finished  he  joined 
combat  with  the  Danes,  slew  their 
king,  Oseg,  with  a  lance,  and  the 
king's  son  with  his  sword.  Many- 
other  of  the  Danish  leaders  fell 
there,  and  the  victory  remained  with 
King  Alfred. 

Many  more  battles  did  he  fight, — 
which  it  would  take  too  long  to  nar- 
rate,— for  the   Danes  allowed  him 

no  breathing  time 

But  at  length  he  reduced  them  to 
subjection 


This    Alfred    promulgated    most 

excellent  laws 

He  used  always  to  carry  in  his 
bosom  a  Psalter,  so  that  whenever  he 
might   chance   to   have   leisure   be 

could  take  it  out  to  read 

The  rebelliousness  of  the 

flesh  at  that  time  caused  him  much 

disgust But  he  used  to 

contemplate  the  examples  of  the 
Saints,  that  he  might  drive  away 
temptation,  beseeching  God  to  chas- 
ten his  flesh  with  some  infirmity,  if 
it  might  please  Him  not  to  render  the 
king  wholly  unfit  for  the  govern- 
ment of  his  kingdom.  And,  for 
many  years,  Divine  Providence 
caused  him  to  sufier  from  the  disease 

called  "ficus" On  which 

account,  despairing  of  cure,  he  went 
into  Cornwall,  to  the  Church  of  St. 


156 


THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


A.D. 

8S4. 


ASSEB. 


[884.]  To  the  succour  of  Eochester,  Alfred 

arrived  with  a  large  army Then,  the 

Pagans  fled  hastily  to  their  ships 

and  were  so  hotly  pursued  that  they  returned  to 

France  the  same  summer 

Pope  Martin  sent  many  presents  to  the  aforesaid 
King,  among  which  was  no  small  part  of  that 
sacred  and  venerable  Cross  on  which  Our  Lord 
was  suspended,  for  the  salvation  of  all  mankiud. 


In  the  same  year  the  Pagan  force  disgracefully 
violated  the  peace  which  they  had  made  with 
K.Alfred 

[  Then  follows  the  long  digression  on  Alfred '« 
character,  sickness,  and  piety ;  and  on  the  per- 
sonal   intercourse   which   Asser   had  held    with 

AtOT.] 


[886.]  Alfred  handsomely  rebuilt  the  city  of 
London,  made  it  habitable,  and  entrusted  it  to 
the  care  of  his  son-in-law,  ^thered,  Earl  of 
Mercia 

["  In  the  same  year  an  injurious  and  distress- 
ing discord  arose  at  Oxford." 

Here  follows  the  famous  passage  alleged  to 
kave  been  interpolated  by  Camden ; — of  which 
herea/ier.^ 


THE  EARLY  BIOGRAPHERS  OF  ALFRED. 


157 


BOOK    OF    HYDE    ABBEY 
(MACCLESFIELD  MS.) 


Gruerour But  a  much 

more  serious  illness  seized  him,  even 
on  his  Wedding-day,  and  continued 
from  his  twentieth  until  his  sixty- 
fifth  [Sic  in  MS.  for  forti/-Mth.] 
year 


[885  ?]  The  townsmen  defended 
Rochester  till  jElfred  came  with  his 
forces. 

That  same  year  Alfred  sent  a  fleet 

to  East  Anglia  and  they 

captured  the  ships  of  the  pirates  ; 
but,  as  they  returned  home,  with 
their  booty,  a  large  fleet  of  pirates 
fought  against  them  and  had  the 
victory. 

[885.]  The  Pagan  army  broke  the 
peace  made  with  JElfred 


[886.]  ^Elfred  repaired  London, 
and  all  the  English  submitted 
themselves  to  him  except  those  who 
were  in  bondage  to  the  Danes. 


158 


THE  EAELT  BIOGEAPHEES  OF  ALFEED. 


A.D. 

887. 


▲SSEB. 


[887.]  In  this  year  K.  Alfred  began  to  read 
and  to  interpret,  all  at  once,  on  the  Bame  day, 
by  a  Divine  instinct 


.  This  king  was  pierced  with  many  nails  of  tri- 
bulation, although  invested  with  royal  authority 


And  was   harassed  by  tlie  constant  invasions 
which  left  him  no  interval  of  repose 


He  founded  two  monasteries, 
them  amply 


and  endowed 


[^Then  follow  the  pasaaget  on  the  division  of 
his  revenues,  and  the  employment  of  his  time.'\ 


THE  EAELT  BIOQEAPHEES  OP  ALFRED. 


159 


A.D, 

887-901. 


SAXON   CHEONICLE. 


[887.]  Alderman  ^thelhelm  car- 
ried the  alms  of K.  -(Elfred  to 

Rome 

[888.]  Alderman  Beocca  carried 

the  alms  of K.  Alfred  to 

Rome 

[894.]  K  Alfred gathered 

together  his  forces,  and  fought 
against   the   Pagans    at    Earnham, 

, and    put      their 

army     to     flight But 

those  who  dwelt  among  the  Nor- 
thumbrians and  the  East  Anglians 
gathered  ships;  and  be- 
sieged a  fortress  in  Devonshire 

"WTien  the  King  heard  that, 

he  turned  westward  towards  Exeter, 


of    the    Danes 
slaughter 


there 


.  and 
great 


A.D.  BOOK   OF    HYDE   ABBEY. 

900.  (MACCLESFIELD  MS.). 


I      [900] In  the  last  year 

I  of  his   reign,  this   most  benignant 
[896.]  Alfred   commanded   \ong\^^  ^^^^^^  g^^^.  ^^^^.^^  ^^  jjoly 

ships   to   be  built    to   oppose   the !  (^^.^^^^^  j^.^  ^^^.^^^i^^^^^^  ^^^  ^^.j^ 

SBscas' of  the  Danes ^  monastery    in  Winchester,  but, 

prevented  by  death,  the  most  pious 

king  was  unable  [in  person]  to  fulfil 

his  vow 


[901.]  In  this  year  died  ^Elfred, 
six  days  before  All-hallowmass. 


160    THE  EARLY  BIOGEAPHEES  OF  ALFRED. 

These  passages  I  am  obliged  both  to  abridge  and  to 
select.  But  they  will,  I  think,  suffice  to  justify  the  asser- 
tion that  in  the  Chronicle  of  Hyde  we  have  an  authority 
wliich,  in  some  important  particulars,  is  both  independent 
and  interesting. 

The  interest  would  doubtless  be  materially  increased  if 
the  comparison  were  carried  far  enough  to  show  what  is 
the  precise  bearing  of  the  new  matter  contained  in  this 
Chronicle, — concerning  the  early  history  of  Oxford  and  the 
life  and  influence  of  St.  Grimbald, — upon  the  old  and  much- 
controverted  question  as  to  the  authenticity  of  that  famous 
passage  in  Asser,  which  has  led  to  a  perhaps  too-confident 
aspersion  upon  the  venerable  name  of  Camden.  This  will 
need  to  be  done,  but  it  cannot  satisfactorily  be  dealt  with 
now. 

Hereafter,  too,  it  may  be  possible  to  show  that  the  Book 
of  Hyde  Abbey — in  respect  as  well  of  its  defects,  and  con- 
fused chronology,  as  of  its  sources  and  general  character — 
has  a  wider  bearing  on  other  questions  which  relate  to 
Alfred's  biography  and  early  biographers.  I  will  hope 
that  I  may  be  enabled  by  and  bye  to  submit  the  Chronicle, 
in  its  entirety,  to  the  examination  of  more  competent 
antiquaries.  I  have  already,  by  the  kind  permission  of  the 
Earl  of  Macclesfield,  completed  a  transcript  of  it. 


AUTHORITIES  OF  THE  HYDE  CHRONICLER.     101 


CHAPTER  III. 

LIST    or    THE     AUTHORITIES     QUOTED    BY    THE    HYDE 
CHRONICLER. 

The  following  is  a  complete  List  of  the  Authorities — 
in  the  order  of  the  first  occurrence  of  each  of  them  — 
which  are  avowedly  quoted  in  Liher  de  Hyda,  as  it  appears 
in  the  Macclesfield  MS. : — 

1.  Ralph  [Higden]  oiChQ^iQY,  Polychronicon : 

Book  I,  c.    9,  Story  of  Binitus,  &c. 

„    V,  c.  39,  The  sending  of  Alfred  to  Modewenna,  in 

Ireland. 
„  VI,  c.  1—6,  The  Life  of  Alfred,  generaUy. 

„    c.    7,  Bones  of  Galfredus,  &c.,  at  Glastonbury. 

„    c.    8,  Death  and  Character  of  Edwy,  &c. 

„    c.  12,  Murder  and  burial  of  Edward  the  Martyr. 

„    c.  13,  Childhood  of  Ethelred. 

„    c.  16,  Sack  of  Canterbury  by  the  Danes. 

2.  ViNCENTius,  Speculum  Historiale  -. 

P.  4,  "  Bi'utus  and  Marcomannus." 

:5.  VioiLANTius,  Be  Basilica  Petri: 

C.  8,  Conversion  of  Ethelwold. 

„    9,  CouncU  at  Winchester  ("  vocal  cinicifix  ")  [Twice 

quoted] . 
„  15,  Monkhood  of  Athulf  or  Ethelwulf. 

4    Alfred  ("Treasurer  of  Beverley,"  Aluredus  Beoer- 

liacensis),  Chronica  : 

Egbert's  Conquest  of  Essex. 

Life  of  St.  Dunstan. 

Death  of  Edmund  the  Elder. 

Edmund  Ironside — Battle  of  Scearstan. 

•         11 


im    AUTHORITIES  OF  THE  HYDE  CHRONICLER. 

5.  "  Cronicantes  Rcgnum  Oricntalium  Sawonum ." 

Pagan  Kings  of  Essex. 

().   Bkda,  "  Be gestis  Avglonim  :" 

••  I.     c.  29,"  Conversion  of  Sibert  (K.  of  Essex). 
•  III.  c.  17."  „  Peada 

"V.     c.    T."  Ceadwalla. — whether  monk  or  not  ? 
..   adfinem.  Account  of  his  own  works. 

7.   Ralph  dc  Diceto  (Archdeacon  of  London) : 

Foundation  of  Westminster  Abbey. 

S.  "  Florentius,  Florarinm  Historiafe ." 
IV,  c,  16,  Burning  of  Cambridge. 

J).  IsiDORUS.  Efymologia : 

IX,  "  Grermania." 

1 0.  William  of  Malraesbury,  T)e  llegibus : 

I,  Egbert  "  monarch ;"  Beda. 
II.        ,,        in  France. 
„    Expulsion  of  the  Seculars. 
„    Athelstan's  war  with  Constantino  of  Scotland. 
„    Verses  on  Athelstan. 

„    Imprisonment  and  Release  of  Abp.  Ulfstan. 
,,    Coronation  of  Edwy,  &c. 
„    Death  of  Edwy. 

„    Edgar's  legislation  on  drinking  "  ad  mensuram." 
„    Death  of  Edward  the  Elder ;  Murder  and  Burial  of 
Edward,  K.  and  Mailyr ;  Baptism  and  Childhood  of 
Etheb-ed. 

1 1 .  William  of  Malraesbury,  De  Pontifcibus  .• 

II.  Removal  and  Reburial  of  the  body  of  St.  Elphege. 
IV,  Maiolus  at  Clnny. 

12.  BoNAGRATiA  {dc  Villa  Bet),   Epistola  ad  Monachos 

Nigros  in  Anglia. 

Monkhood  of  Athulf. 

1 3.  Lantfredus,  Vita  SancH  Swithiui . 

I,  Prosa  nona.     [Printed  in  Migne,  Pairologice  Cvrsus, 
Tom.  CLV,  ^p.  62.  seqq.] 


AUTHORITIES  OF  THE  HYDE  CHRONICLER.     163 

14.  Marianus  Scotus,  Chronica: 

I,  c.  15,  Education  of  the  Childi-en  of  Edward  tlie  Elder. 

Gift  of  Fragments  of  the  Holy  Cross  to  Mahnesbury. 
II,  Victories  of  Edmtmd  over  the  Danes. 

,.  Death  of  Edmund. 

„  Comparison  of  Edwy  and  Edgar  ("  Good  and  bad 

plants  growing  on  the  same  soil.") 
„  Establishment  and  Reformation  of  Monasteries  by 

Edgar. 
,.  Suppression  of  Robbers. 

„  Battle  of  Scearstan. 

15.  Gerard   of  Cornwall  [Girardus,  Cornubiensis\.     Be 

Gestis  Return  Westsawonum : 

C.  10,  11, 14,  LifeofAlfi-ed. 

Y,  c.  1 0,  Schools  at  Cambridge,  foimded  by  Edward  the 

Elder, 
XI,  Combat  of  Guy  of  Warwick  and  Colbrand  the  Dane, 

16.  Henry  of  Huntingdon : 

Y,  Yerses  on  Alfred. 

17.  Vita  Sancti  Athelwoldi,  c.  10. 

18.  An  Anonymous  versifier  on  Athelstan. 

19.  Joannes,  Historia  Aurea: 

Establishment  of  Monks  at  Winchester,  and  at  Thomey, 

under  Edgar  [Twice  quoted]. 
Account  of  Beda. 

20.  Seneca : 

"  Gallus  in  proprio  sterquilinio." 

21.  Vita  Sancti  Elcutii 

Dream  of  Edgar. 

22.  An  Anonymous  versifier  on  Edgar. 

23.  "  Osduerus,"  Vita  Sancti  Dunstani. 

24.  Matthew  P«m: 

Battle  of  Penn. 
Battle  of  Scearstan. 


HN.    AUTHORITIKS   OF   THE   HYDE   CHKONICLER. 

•2').  [UodKR  of  Wendover.J     F/ores  Historiarnm. 
Reign  and  Murder  of  Edmund  Ironside. 
Events  in  the  reign  of  Canute. 

;2().  Liher  de  Gestis  Po7iiificum  Dunehnetmmn  : 

Election  and  Life  of  Bp.  Edmund. 
Honours  paid  to  St.  Cuthbert  by  Canute. 
Account  of  Beda. 

•:7.  "  Libello  De  Vita  Venerabilia  Beda." 

'1^.   Legenda  Sanctorum-. 

On  the  Origin  of  the  Epithet  *'  VenerabiUs  Beda." 

'1\).    Vita  Sancti  Birini: 

[Quoted,  but  not  expressly  named.] 

:M).   Vita  Sancti  Cuthberti. 

Of  these  authorities,  the  Speculum  Historiale  of  Vin- 
centius ;  the  work  De  Basilica  Petri,  of  Vigilantius ;  the 
Kpistola  of  Bonagratia ;  the  Historia  Aurea ;  and  nearly 
the  whole  of  Gerard  of  Cornwall,  De  Gestis  Begum  West- 
sa.vonumy  togetlicr  with  the  work  cited  as  "  Cronicantes 
Bfif/num  OricntaJiuni  SaxonumJ'  are  not  now  known  to 
exist.  And  even  as  respects  mere  citation,  but  little  more 
is  known  about  any  of  them,  than  may  be  gathered  from 
thi;  passages  quoted  in  the  Chronicle  of  Hyde,  and  in  the 
IliHtoria  Major  Wintoniensis,  of  Thomas  Rudborne. 


DOCUMENTS  IX    THE   HYDE  CHAllTULAKY.     IG.") 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CONCERNING  THE  DOCUMENTS  EXHIBITED  IN  THE  HYDE 
CHARTULARY. TEXT  OF  KING  ALFRED's  WILL  IN  ANGLO- 
SAXON  AND  IN  MIDDLE  ENGLISH. 

The  Wills  given  in  this  Chartulary  are  those  of  (1) 
King  Alfred;  (2)  Elfsige,  a  Bishop;  (:3)  King  Edred;  (4) 
Athelwold,  one  of  the  Officers  of  King  Ethelred  II ;  (.5) 
Athelniar,  a  "  Duke"  or  military  leader  under  Ethelred  II. 
All  of  them  are  given  in  Latin,  in  Anglo-Saxon,  and  in 
Middle  English. 

The  Charters,  or  portions  of  Charters,  conveying  grants 
of  lands  to  Hyde  Abbey, — or  to  persons  who  afterwards 
gave  or  bequeathed  the  possessions  first  granted  to  them 
to  that  Community, — are  twenty-five  in  number.  They 
are  the  Grants  of  Edward  the  Elder,  of  Athelstan,  of 
Edred,  of  Edvvy,  of  Edgar,  and  of  Ethelred  II.  Tlie 
boundaries  of  the  lands  granted  (as  I  have  already  men 
tioned,)  are  uniformly  given  in  the  three  languages,  severally. 
In  the  proems  we  meet  with  Greek  words,  such  as  "  cosnii," 
"  protoplastos,"  and  the  hke,  which,  —  as  JMr.  Kenible  has 
long  since  pointed  out  in  the  preface  to  his  invaluable 
Codpx  Diplomaticus  jEvi  Saoconici, — are  in  perfect  keeping 
with  the  style  of  the  tenth  centmy,  although  very  suspi- 
cious if  met  with  in  documents  claiming  to  be  of  a  date 
anterior  to  Alfred.  The  "  sanctions,"  too,  are  uniformly  of 
the  kind  usual  at  the  period.     The  date  of  tlie  indiction  is 


Kill;;  AllVid'a 
Will. 


166  ALFRED'S  WILL,  IN  ANGLO-SAXON. 

commonly  given,  and  is  sometimes  accompanied  by  the 
dominical  year.  In  the  "teste,"  the  uncouth  use  of 
Anglo-Saxon  characters  in  writing  Latin  words  is  also 
common.  Most  of  the  lands  granted  are  situated  either 
in  Hampshire,  in  Surrey,  or  in  Sussex.  Kent  occurs  but 
rarely. 

Of  the  famous  Will  of  King  Alfred,  no  MS.  was  accessi- 
ble to  Mr.  Kemble,  notwithstanding  his  wide-spread  re- 
searches. Manning  had  printed  it,  in  1788,  from  a  MS. 
then  belonging  to  Mr.  Astle,  afterwards  preserved  in  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham's  Library  at  Stowe,  and  now,  it  is 
believed,  in  the  rich  collection  of  Lord  Ashburnham,  but 
he  failed  to  obtain  a  sight  of  the  MS.  itself.  He  therefore 
printed  after  Manning's  text,  as  the  only  alternative. 

In  the  text  of  this  Will,  as  given  in  the  Macclesfield 
MS.  of  the  Chronicle  and  Chartulary  of  Hyde,  there  are 
many  obvious  cormptions.  The  Will  itself  is  treated  as 
two  separate  documents,  which  are  divided  by  a  portion  of 
the  Chronicle.  The  orthography  is  very  corrupt.  In 
writing  compound  words,  the.  particles  are  often  sepa- 
rated, in  a  fashion  more  than  usually  uncouth.  But  I 
think  it  best  to  copy — as  literally  as  may  be — the  MS.,  as 
it  stands  before  me. 

"  Incipit  Testamentum  Alfredi  Regis  Incliti  in  lingua 

Saxonica:" 

"  Ic  Aelfred  cinge,  mid  goddes  gyfe  and  mid  ge- 
theahtunge  AeJ^eredes  ercebisceopes  and  ealra  West- 
seaxena  witena  gewittenesse,  smeade  ymbe  minre  sawie 
thearfe,  and  ymbe  min  yrfe  thaet  me  god  and  min  ildran 
for-geafon,  and  ymbe  that  yrfe  thaet  Athulf  cinge,  min 
faeder,  us  thrim  gebrotherun  becuaethe,  Ethelbolde  and 
Ethcrede   and   me,  and   svvylc   ure  swylc   lengcst  waeie. 


ALFRED'S  WILL,  IN   ANGLO-SAXON.  167 

thaet  se  fenge  to  eallum  ;  ac  hit  ge-lamp  thaet  Athelboldc 
gefore,  ■]  wyt  Aethered,  mid  ealre  Westseaxena  wytenu 
gewittenesse  uncurne  dael  othe-faestan  Ethelbirt  cinge 
uncrum  maege ;  on  tha  ge-raedene  the  he  hit  eft  ge-dj'de 
unc  swa  ge-wylde  swa  hit  tha  waes,  tha  wit  hit  him  othe- 
faestan,  ^  he  tha  swa  dyde,  ge  thaet  yrfe,  ga  thaet  he  mid 
uncrum  ge-manan  be-geat  "]  thaet  he  sylf  gestrynde. 
Tha  hit  swa  ge-lamp  thaet  Ethered  to  fenge,  tha  baed  ic 
hine,  be-foran  urum  witum  eallum,  thaet  wit  thaet  yrfe 
gedaeldon  j  he  me  a-geafe  minne  dael,  tha  saede  he  me 
thaet  he  naht  eathe  ne  mihte  to-daelon,  for-thon  he 
haefde  ful  oft  aer  on-ge-fangen  ^  he  cuaethe  thaes  the 
he  on  uncrum  ge-manan  ge-bruce  ^  gestrynde,  aeftyr  his 
daege  he  namura  menu  sel  ne  uthe  thonne  me  ^  ic  thaes 
tha,  waes  wel  ge-thafa.  Ac  hit  ge-lamp  thaet  we  ealle  on 
haethenum  folce  ge-brocude  waeron ;  tha  spraece  wit 
ymbe  uncre  beam,  thaet  hy  sumre  dre  be-thorftan,  saelde 
unc  on  tham  brocum  swa  unc  saeld,  tha  waeron  we  on 
gemote  aet  Swinbeorgum ;  tha  ge-cpaedon  wit  on  West- 
seaxena witena  gewittenesse  thaet  swather  uncer  leng 
waere,  thaet  he  ge-uthe  otheres  bearnum  thara  lauda  the 
wit  sylfe  begeaton,  ■;)  thara  land  the  unc  Aethulf  cinge 
forgeaf  be  Athelbold  lifiendum,  butan  tham  the  us  thrim 
gebrotherum  ge-cuaethe;  "^  thaes  uncer  aegther  othrum 
his  wedd  sealde  swather  uncer  leng  lifede,  thaet  se  fenge 
aegether  ge  to  land  ge  to  madumnu^  3  to  eallum  his 
aehtum,  butan  tham  daele  the  uncer  ge-whaether  his 
bearmunn^  becpaed.  Ac  hit  gelamp  thaet  Ethered  cinge 
ge-for,  tha  ne  cpdde  me  nanan  mannum*  nanan  yrfe-ge- 
wryt,  ne  nane  gewittenesse,  thaet  hit  aetiig  other  waere 
butan  swa  hit  on  gewittenesse  aer  ge-cpaedon,  tha  ge- 
hyrde  we  nu  manegu  yrfe-geflitu:  nu  tha  laedde  ic  Aethulfes 
cinges  yrfe-ge-writ  on  ure  gemot  aet  Langan-dene  'j  hit 
man  a-raedde  be  forane  eallum  Westseaxena  witum.  That* 
hit  a-raedde  waes,  tha  baed  ic  hy  ealle,  for  minre  lufan  ^ 
him  mine  wedd  bead  that  ic  hyra  naefre   maenne^  ne  on- 

Madmum  (Manning's  text).         '  Bearaum.  '  Nan  mann. 

^  Tha.  ^  Nacnnc. 


168  ALFRED'S  WILL,   IN  ENGLISH. 

cuthe  for-thon  the  by  on  riht  spraecon,  'j  tbae  hira  namie^ 
wandode,  ne  for  miuan  lufau  ne  for  minan^  aege,  thaet  hy 
tliaet  folc-riht  arehton;  thylaes  aenge^  man  cuethe  thaet 
ic  min  m;ieege-eyld,  otthe  yldran  otthe  gingran,  mid  tho 
fordemde,  and  hy  tha  ealla  to  riht  gerehton  -}  cuedon  that 
hy  nane  rihtre  riht  ge-thecan  ne  myl»tan  ne  on  tham  yrfe- 
gewrite  ge-hyran  :  nu  hit  eall  agan  is  thaer  on*  othe  thya 
hand,  then  thu  it  be-cuethe  "]  sylle  swa  ge-sibre  handa 
swa  fremdre,  swaether  the  leofre  sy :  ~}  hy  ealle  me  thaes 
hyra  weodd  sealdon  "^  hyra  hand  setene,  that  be  hyra  life 
hit  naenge  mannan  naefre  waende^  on  nane  other  wisan, 
butan  swa  swa  ic  hit  syif  ge-cuaethe  aet  tham  nyhstan 
daege." 


£xPLANATio  Testamenti  Alfrbdi   Reois,  de  lingua 
Saxonica  in   Anglicam  : — 

"  I  Alfred  westsaxene  kyng  thorw  goddys  gyft  and  by 
the  ordeuawns  of  Ethered  Erchebyschop,  and  of  alle 
westsaxene  nobylte,  wytenesse  be  they  schull  of  the  intent 
for  my  sowle  powerte  of  the  iierytage  that  god  and  my 
prycys  have  y  g}  fe  me,  and  of  the  herytage  that  Athulf 
kyng  my  fadyr  us  thre  bietheryn  be  qweythyd,  Athelbold, 
and  Ethered,  and  me,  that  ho  of  us  the  wyche  lengist 
lyvyd  schold  have  all  the  kyngdom.  And  yf  hyt  happe 
that  Ethelbold  fyrst  be  dede,  than  Ethered,  wyht  all  the 
nobylte  of  westsexene  to  be  wyttenesse  of  owr  partye  the 
tyme  of  Ethelbyrt  kyngys  coronation  w*  all  owr  power 
aftyr  the  sewerte  that  he  made  to  us  that  he  so  wolde 
hyt  be  as  hyt  was  when  he  hyt  knew  to  fore  the  tyme  of 
hys  coronacyon,  whan  he  hys  sewerte  made  of  the  herytage 
the  whyche  he  w'  owre  help  and  men  getyth  and  that 
wherto  is  bore,  and  hyt  so  happyd  that  Ethered  fenge  to 
the  kyngdome  tho  bade  y  hym  be  fore  all  owre  wyttenesse 
that  he  know  te  heritage  to  departe,  and  he  to  gyfe  me 

'     Thaet  hyra  nan  ne.  '  Minum.  '  Aenig. 

*  On  dsoron.  *  Na;nip  man  naafrc  ne  onwonde. 


ALFRED'S  WILL,   IN   ENGLISH.  IC'J 

my  part.      Tho  seyd  he  to  me  that  he  na\v3t  scholde  ne 
my3t  hyt  departe  for  so  myche  that  he  hyt  so  long  hell  liath 
y  holde,  but  he  seyde  thus  that  tl»e  londys  that  he  thorow 
help  of  owre  pepyll  hat  gete  and  the  lyfelode  that  he  was 
bore  to,  to   no   man    aftyr   hys   day  to   have  and  for  to 
rejoyse,  hys  herytage  take  wolde  but  onlyche  to  me.    And 
tho  was  y  wel  plesyd.      And  yf  hyt  happyd  that  we  alle 
were-  had   and  take  to  hethyn  folke;  than  knowe  we  to 
ordeyne  for  owre  chyldryii   that  evereyche  of  hem  myjt 
aftyr  other  take  owre  londys  and  to  rejoyse  as  they  were 
take  to  us.      We  therfore  gaderyd  at  Swymborn,  where 
we  seyden  in  knowleche  of  alle  Westsaxene  lordys  that 
they  ber  wytnesse  that  wheyther   of  us  ienger  lyfe,  that 
he  be  qweythe  otherys  chyldryn  tho  londis  that  we  owre 
sylf  gate   and  tho  londis   that   kyng  adulpf  us  yafe  by 
Ethelboldys  lyfday,  w*  owte  that  the  wheche   to  us  thre 
bretheryn  he  be  qwethyd.     And   so  of  us  eythyr  other 
hvs  sewerte  that  whether  of  us  Ienger  Ivved  that  he  font: 
to    otherys   lond    and    lordschyp,   and   to   all   hys    good, 
w^  owte    that   part   that  eyther  of  us   otherys  chyld    be 
qweythyd,  and  hyt  so  happe  that  Ethered  kyng  dye  before 
me,  than  w^  owte  me  ys  no  man  none  eyre  by  wrytynge 
ue  by  no  wytnesse  that  any  other  were  w^  owte  that  he 
hyt  by  wyttenesse  the  rathyr  sey :  Tho  y  hyrde  that  my 
kynuys  folke  was  passed  owt  of  the  wordele,  so  than  was  y 
Kyng  Athulphys  eyr  thorw  wrytynge  and  owre  cownseyl 
at  Langdene.     And  a  man  hyt  redde  by  fore  wyttenesse 
of  alle  Westsexene.    When  hyt  redde  was  tho  comawndyd 
y  hem  all  for  my  lofe  and  to  hem  y  made  sewrte  that  y 
nevyr  hyrde  of  man  ne  of  coude  that  of  my  lyflode  eny 
ryth  claymyd  and  that  y  nevyr  hyrd  contrarye.     And  no 
man  for  my  lofe  nother  for  myn  hatered  sey  a  yens  ryth 
nother  untrewthe  sey  that  y  my  cosynnys  chyld  olde   or 
yonge  not  desheryte.    And  they  alle  to  the  ryth  consentyd 
and   seyden  that  they  knew  no  rythtyr  eyer  nother  be 
thenke  coude  ne  mythte  no  other  of  othyr  eyr  here  eny 
wrytynge  but  of  me ;  now  thw  hast  hyt  all  a  yen  in  thyn 
bond,  now  beqwethe  hyt  and  yyf  {sic)  hyt  to  thy  next  kyn 
or  freud,  whether  the  lefyst  ys.     And  they  all  to  me  here 


170  ALFRED'S   WILL.    IN   ANGLO-SAXON. 

sewerte  made  and  w'  here  houde  a  seled  that  by  here  lyf 
nevyr  hyt  to  eny  man  nother  other  wyse  tome  nother 
jvfe  but  so  as  y  my  self  hyt  be  qwethe  at  the  nexte 
day." 


"  Incipit  secundum  testamentum  Alfredi  Regis  incliti,  in 
LINGUA   Saxonica  : 

*^*  All  these  documents  are  here  given,  literally,  as  they  appear  in 
the  Macclesfield  MS. 


Till;     Coii- 


"  Ic  Alfred  pestseaxena  cmge  mib  godes  gife   ~}   mid 
t.imaiioii.  or  JMssc   ge-pittcuesse  ge-cpeSe  hu  ic  ymbe  mm  yyfe  aeftest' 

Will  .,1  minum  dsege.   senest  ic  an  Eadpearide  raman  yidnan  suna 

'^'"'■'  •^'^"''  j>ese  landes   set  striaetneat  on  trucouscipe,  'j  heontig  tunes, 

•J  )7a  boc-land  ealle  ye  Leof-lieah  hylt  ~}  f  land  aet  canim- 
tune,  -}  set  cylfantune,  ~}  set  bunnhamme  "ij  aet  pebraon ;  'j  ic 
eom  fyrnnbig  to  )>am  hipum  jet  ceobne  ^  hy  hine  ceosan 
on  ]?a  genab  |?epe  aen  ge-cpeben  hiefbon  mib  |?am  lanb  aet 
ciptune  ~}  j;ain  |?e  |;aen  to  hyna^,  ^  ic  him  an  J^aes  lanbes 
K't  cantuctuue  ^  cet  bedemdan  'j  aet  fefesige'  ^  hyssebuM 
nan  ~\  xi  sutt  une  ~)  aet  leobruban  "j  aet  apeltime.  "3  ealle  pa 
boclanb  ]>e  ic  on  cent  habbe  ^  aet  J>am  nySenan  hysse- 
biirinan  ~}  a?t  cyselbeue  agyfe  man  m  to  j^intanceastne 
on  |)a  gena^  f  hit  mm  faeben  aen  ge-cye^,  "j  f  urn 
sundon-feoh^  J>aet  ic  egulfe  o^  faeste  on  )7am  neoSenan 
hyssebunnan.  -}  J)an  ginjnan  mman  suna  j^a  lanb  jet 
eaberungtune  "j  ^  aet  bene  ^  ^  aet  meone  ■j  aet  ambries 
byrij  ■]  aeet  beone  ~}  aet  stune  mynsten  "j  aet  gifle  -j  aet 
cruiffirin  ■]  aet  hpitan  cyrucan  "j  set  axanmu^an  'j  jet 
brumctescumbe  ')  aet  columtune  •]  aet  tpyfinbe  "^  set  mylen- 
burnan  '^  aet  exanmynsten  "j  aet  suSespynSe  ~)  aet  liptune  ~} 
J)a  lanb  ]fe  yen  to  hynan,  ^  siub  ealle  J>e  ic  on  pealcyue 
haebbe  butan  truconstirie.  ~}  minne  yldstan  behten  ]7aene 
ham  aet  pelepe,  -)  ysene  mebemestan  aet  cleanan  ■;}  aet 
cenbefen,  ~}   j^aerie   jinjestan    ]7one   ham   aet  pelij   "]    set 

'  Yrlo  willc  ajftcr  (Manning's  text).  -  BeM.'win'»an  T  at  Pefesiggc. 

'  Fiii^er  ICY  gecwffi*.  T  ^cct  min  sim"6crfeoh. 


ALFRED'S    WILL,   IN   ANGLO-SAXON.  171 

aeschune^  -\  aet  cippanbamme,  "^  se^elme  mmes  brioSeii 
suna  ]?one  ham  aet  ealbing  hurinan"  '^  aet  cumtune  ^  aet 
crumbellan  •])  aet  beabinju  tl  ^^  beabmja  harame  ■;]  aet 
burmham  -^  aet  ]?unpesfelba  -^  aet  aescenjum  ;  ^  a]?elpolbe 
mines  bno^ori.suua  ]?one  hamme  aet  jobelminjum  ^  aet 
jilbeforiba  •;)  aet  staeninguj  ~i  osfen^e  mmum  maege  J;one 
ham  aet  beccaulea  'j  aet  hpylSeriatn  felda  "j  aet  biccanhn jum 
•}  aet  sut5tune  ^  aet  luUmge  mmsteri  '^  aet  anjemaennjum 
J  aet  felb  hamme  ^  J^a  lanb  |?e  |?aeri  to  hyrian,  3  ealhspi^e 
]?one  ham  aet  lambbunnam  ^  aet  panetmj  ■])  aet  e^anbune, 
■;)  mmnum  tpan  sunum  an  jjusenb  punba,  aej^rmm  fif  hunb 
punbaj  ^  minrie  ylbstan  behteri  "]  j^aerie  mibemestau  'j 
j^aene  jmjstan  ^  ealhspi^,  him  feopjmm,  feopeji  hunb  punba 
aelcum  an  hunb  punba^  ^  mmpa  ealboji-manna  elcum 
an  hunb  manjcusa,  ^  aej^elme  ^  a^elpolbe  ^  osfepSe 
eac  spa,  3  ae|?epebe  ealbopmenn  anb  speopbon  hunb 
teontijum  mancusum,  "j  |7ain  mannum  j^e  me  folpa^  |7e  le 
nu  on  eastep-tibum  feoh  sealbe  tpa  hunb  punba  agife 
man  him  ^^  baele  man  him  be-tpeoli  aelcum  spa  him  to  ge- 
byrian  pille  aeftep  J?aepe  pisan  J^e  hic  him  nu  baele^,  'j  |7am 
ejice-bisceope  c.  mancusa,  'j  e»ne  bisceop  "3  pepfeptie 
bisceope  ^  ]?am  aet  scireburnam,  eac  spa  ge-baele  fop  me  ~j 
foji  mm  faebep  •j  foji  j^a  fscynb''  (sic)  ]?e  he  fope  )?mgobe 
■3  ic  fope  J^mgiCj  tpa  hnnb  punba,  fiftig  maesse-ppeostoim 
ofeji  eall  mm  pice,  fiftig  eajimum  go^ef  (^ec)  J?eopum,  fiftig 
eajimum  peapfum,  fiftig  to  Jjaepe  cypican  ];e  ic  aet  pest,  ^ 
ic  nat  naht  gepishce  hpseSep  paep  feoj'  spa  micel  ij",  ne  ic 
nat  }>eah  hip  mape  sy  butan  spa  ic  pene.  Gif  hit  mape  sy 
beo  hit  him  eallum  gemene  ]fe  ic  feoh  be-cpeSen  haebbe, 
~]  ic  pille  ]?2et  mine  ealdop-menn  ■;)  mm  ]?enig-menn  ]7a?p 
ealle  mib  synban  ~]  j^is  |7us  gebaelan.  ]7onne  haefbe  ic  aep 
on  o^pe  pisan  a-ppitan  ymbe  ymbe  (sic)  myn  yjife  ]>a.  ic 
haefbe  mape  feoh  ^  ma  maga  ^  haefbe  monegu  mannii  J?a 
ge-ppitu  o^e-faest  •]  on  |?a]'  ylcan  ge-pittenesse  hy  paepon 
a-ppitene,  ]7onne  haebbe  ic  nu  foribaermeb^  )7a  ealban  ]7e  ic 
ge-ahsian   mihte.      Gif  hyna^  hpylc  funben  bi^  ne   fori- 

^  yEsctunc.  -  Buraan.  ^  Daelde.  *  Frynd. 

°  Forba3me"».  "  Hyra. 


17^  ALFREjys  WILL,   IN  ANGLO-SAXON. 

stent'  ]7aet  uaht,  forr-J?ara  ic  pille  |7aet  hit  nu  |7U8  sy  niib 
gobes  fulturae.  ~)  ic  piUe  J>a  menu  )?e  |?a  laub  habbaS  );a 
ponb  gelaestau  |>e  on  mnies  faeber  ynfe  ge-prrile^  stanbaS, 
sja  spa  hy  fyriiuest*  niagou,  ~\  ic  pille  gife  ic  aenigum  menn 
lenij  leoh  unleanob  haebbe  j>aet  mine,  inagas  f  hujiu  je-le- 
anian.  ~\  ic  pille  ))a  raenni  J^e  ic  mine  boc-lanb  be-cpeben 
litebbe  •)?  liy  hit  ne  a-syllan  of  minum  cyniie  oferi  heona 
bjeg,  ac  ic  pille"'  hyria  baeg  )?aet  hit  j;ange  on  y&  nihstan 
hanb  me,  butan  hyiia  hpylc  beanii  haebbe,  j>onne  is  me 
leofast  y-xt  hit  gauge  on  \>2dt  stnyneb'*  on  );a  pteapneb 
healf'e  |>a  hpile  j^e  aenig  j^aes  pynbe  sy.  mm  ylbria  faeSeri' 
lla'f^e  jic-cpebeu  hys  laiib  on  ]?a  sperie-healfe  wxy  on  \>'a 
spnil-healfe,  |>onne,  gif  ic  ge-sealbe  senigrie  piflianba  f  he 
ge-slrinbe  )?onne  fori-gylban  mine  magas,  ■}  gif  hy  hit  he 
j>an  liljenbaii  habban  pillan,  gif  hit  elles  sy  gange  hit  oleri 
hyria  ba?g  spa  spa  pe  leii  ge-cpeben  haefbon,  foriJ>on  ic 
cpeS**  j^aet  hi  hit  gylban,  fori-|>on  hy  fo5  to  nnnuiu  J>e  ic 
sylhin  mot  spa  pif-hanba  spa  paepueb-hanba  spa  paepueb 
hanba  (sic)  spaS-eii  ic  pille.  j  ic  bibbe  on  gobes  uaman  ^ 
on  his  hiihgria  ^  mnnria'  maga  nan  ne  yrife-peariba^*'  ue 
ge-spciice  nan  nienig  cyrielif  j;ana  J>e  ic  forie-gealb,  ~)  lue 
pestseaxena  pitan  to  rihte  ge-riehton  J^aet  ic  hi  mot  laetan 
spa  fneo  spa  ]?eope  spaberi  ic  pille,  ac  ic  fori  gobes  lufan  "3 
fori  minria  sujly  |;ejirife  pille  ^  hy  syn  heoria  frieolses 
pyri^e,  ^  hyria  eyries,  -}  ic  on  go^ea  lifienbes  naman  beobe 
]>at  hy  nan  man  ne  bnocie  ne  mib  feos  manunge  ne  mib 
naenjum  ]?ingum  f  hy  ne  motan  ceosan  spylcne  mann 
spy  Ice  hy  piUan,  "^  ic  pille  ]?a3t  man  agife  j^am  hipum  aet 
bomria-hamme  hyria  lanb-bec  hyria  lanb-bec  {sic),  ^ 
hyria  frieols  spylce  hanb  to  ceosenne  spylce  him  leofast 
sy,  fori  me,  "j  for  aelflebe,  ^  fori  \>a,  friynb  J;e  heo  forie 
Jjingobe  "3  ic  forie  ];ingie.  ~}  sec  man  eac  on  cpicum  ceape 
ymbe  minne  saple  j>earife,  spa  hit  beon  maege,  "^  spa  hit 
eac  ge-riysne  sy  ^  spa  ge  me  fori-gyfan  pillan. 

'  Furatent.        '  FoHSam.         '  Yrfe-gewrite.        *  Fyrmest. 

'  "  Ofer  "  needs  here  to  be  Bupplied.  as  in  Manning. 

•*  Strynel).        "  Yl"»ra  fiB"^er.        "  Fon^ou  ic  cwe*c.        '  Minpa. 

'"  Yrfewoavda. 


ALFRED'S    WILL,    IN    ENGLISH.  173 

"  ExPLANATio  Testamenti  Alfrkdi   Regis,   de   lingua 
Saxonica  in  Anglicam. 

"  I  Alfred  westsaxene  kyng  wyth  goddys  3yft,  and  by  (S).  in 
thy  wyttenesse  I  seye  nowe  the  iutention  of  my  last  wylle 
to  be  fulfyllyd  aftyr  my  day.  Fyrst  I  grawnte  to  Edward 
my  yldiste  sone  the  loudes  at  stratnet  in  triconschyre  and 
hortyngtuue  and  all  the  freloud  that  leof  hath  hold,  and 
that  lond  at  caruratune  and  at  kylfautuue,  and  at  burnhani 
and  at  wedmore,  and  I  conferme  to  the  keper^  at  Ceodre 
tha  he  hyt  have  aftyr  the  puynirtyng  that  we  erst  seyde 
hafe  w*  that  land  at  kyntune  and  that  ther  to  longyth, 
and  I  to  hym  grawnte  the  londis  at  kantintune  and  at 
bedewynde  and  at  pefesy  and  at  hysseburh  and  at  suttuue 
and  at  leodridan  and  at  aultune  and  alle  the  frelond  that 
I  in  kent  have,  and  at  nether  hysseburn  and  at  kyseldene. 
I  3yve  my  chef  servant  at  wynchester  after  the  syne- 
ment  that  hyt  my  fadyr  er  beqweythyd  and  myn  other  fee 
that  I  to  egulfe  gafe  un  to  at  certeyn  tyme  at  the  nether 
hysseborne.  And  that  my  3ongyr  sone  have  that  lond 
at  Ederingtune  and  that  at  the  dene,  and  that  at  Mene 
and  at  Ambresbury  and  at  deone  and  at  sturemynster 
and  at  3eule  and  at  kmerne  and  at  whytchyrche  and  at 
axamuntham  and  at  brauescumbe  and  at  kolumtune  and 
at  twyfyrd  and  at  Myllenburn,  and  at  Exanmynster  and 
at  sutheswyrthe  and  at  lyntune  and  the  lond  that  there  to 
longyth  the  whyche  be  all  that  I  undyr  hevyn  have  uttake 
Trikonschyre.  ^And  to  my  ilderyst  dowthter  I  grawnt 
the   twune   of  welewe,   and   to   the   mydmest   dowther  I 

*  Mr.  Manning  translates  this  clause  thus :— "  And  I  am  a  petitioner  to 
the  families  at  Ceodre  that  they  him  would  chuse  on  the  condition  that 
we  formerly  expressed  had,"  &c. ;  and  he  adds  this  note :  "  These  hipaj- 
'femilies,'  at  Chedder,  were  the  ceorls  who  occupied  the  tenemental 
lands  there.  They  were  so  far  analogous  to  those  who,  in  the  succeed- ' 
ing  feudal  times,  were  called  '  privileged  villains,'  as  that  they  could  not 
be  compelled  to  hold  their  lands  against  their  own  consent.  Hence  it 
was  that  AJfred  had  stipulated  with  them,  on  the  ground  of  a  requisition 
on  hi.s  part,  to  chuse  Edward  his  Son  to  be  their  landlord;  i.  e.,  to  con- 
tinue his  tenants  after  he  himself  should  be  dead  and  gone." 


174  ALFRKU'S  WILL,  IN   ENGLISH. 

graunte  the  twune  of  klere  and  of  kendevere,  and  to  my 
3(mg:yst  dowthtyr  I  graunte  the  twune  of  welyg  and  of 
Ascktune  and  of  schyppeuam.  ^And  to  Athelme  my 
brotherys  sone  I  grawnt  the  twune  of  Eleyngburn  and 
of  kumptune  and  of  krundele  and  of  bedyngum  and  of 
bedynghara  and  of  burnhara  and  of  thunresfeld  an  of 
Aschengura.  ^And  to  athelwold  my  brotherys  sone  the 
twune  of  godclmynge  and  of  gylford  and  of  steraugum. 
^And  to  osferthe  my  cosyn  I  graunte  the  twune  of  bec- 
canle  and  of  Rytherharafeld  and  of  dyccanlyngum  and  of 
suttuue  and  of  lullyngarynster  and  of  Angeraeryngum  and 
of  Felthham  and  the  lond  that  there  to  longyth.  ^And 
to  Alswythe  the  twne  of  lamburne  and  of  wantyngh  and 
of  Ethandune.  ^And  to  my  twey  sonys  I  beqweyth  a 
thwsund  pund  Eythyr  fyf  hundryd  pund.  ^And  to  myn 
ilderyst  dow3ter  and  to  the  myddelyst  and  to  the  ^ongyst 
and  to  Alswythe  to  hem  fowr  fowrhundyrd  pund  everyche 
of  hem  an  hunderyd  pund.  ^And  to  everych  of  my 
gentylmen  an  hunderyd  mark.  ^And  to  Ethelme  and 
Athelwolde  and  Osferthe  also  everyche  of  hem  an  hunderyd 
mark.  ^And  to  Ethered  my  gentylman  I  3yve  a  swerd 
and  twcnti  hunderyd  mark.  ^And  to  that  man  that 
folwyth  me  wyt  wham  at  Estyrtyd  I  covenaunt  made 
I  take  too  hunderyd  pund  that  man  to  ^y ve  and  that  man 
to  partye  be  twyxt  all  tho  ther  hym  to  be  byryyd 
lykyth  after  the  wyse  that  I  now  to  hym  dele.  ^And  to 
the  Erchebyschop  I  3yve  an  hunderyd  mark  and  Esne 
byschop  and  werferthe  byschop  and  to  hym  of  schyrburn 
everyche  of  hem  as  myche  for  to  departye  and  to  dele  for 
me  and  for  my  fadyr  and  for  that  thyng  that  he  {sic  for  *  I ') 
before  asynyd.  And  I  asyne  too  hunderyd  pund  to  fyfty 
masse  prestys  twrw  all  my  Reem.  And  fifti  schilyngys 
to  every  of  godys  servauntys,  and  fyfty  schylyng  to  dele 
amonge  the  powr  peple  and  fyfty  to  the  chyrche  wher 
that  I  am  byryyd.  ^And  I  not  nat  trewely  weyther  ther 
ys  more  than  these  ^yftys  ne  I  trow  that  there  ys  no 
more  as  I  wene.  Yf  yt  more  be,  be  hyt  all  demenyd  as  I 
to  3yve  have  seyd.  ^And  I  wyll  that  my  gentylmen  and 
my  3ymen  and  al  tho  that  wyth  hem  beth  that  they  thys 


ALFRKD'S  WILL,  IN  ENGLISH.        .         175 

thus  departye  ne  on  none  other  wyse  than  I  have  wryte 
by  fore  to  fore  my  heyr  to  wham  I  have  most  3yve  and 
most  ray3t.  And  monymen  han  at  thys  tyme  ther  to 
wryte  and  to  fore  all  thys  wyttenesse  thes  yyftes  were 
i  wryte  than  have  I  now  for  chargyd  the  pryncys  of  my 
Reeme  that  I  aske  my3t  of  hem  that  fundyn  byth  that 
hyt  let  not  for  that  that  hyt  ys  my  wyll  that  hyt  nw  be 
thus  thorw  goddys  strenkth.  And  I  wyl  that  tho  men 
the  whyche  these  londys  havyn  kepe  the  word  that  of 
my  faderys  herytage  stondyth  i  wryte  of  rayche  as  they 
strengyst  mowe.  And  I  wyll  yf  I  eny  man  have  gyfe  or 
eny  lenyd  have  that  they  to  my  cosynis  or  to  here  hyt 
seue.  And  I  wyll  that  tho  men  that  I  my  freland  have 
beqwethyd  that  they  ^yve  hyt  nat  from  ray  kynne  overe 
here  day.  And  I  wyll  And  I  wyll  {sic)  that  aftyr  here 
day  to  the  next  bond  of  me,  wythowte  hem  that  chyldryn 
have,  than  ys  me  levyst  that  hyt  go  to  the  mawl  chyld 
by  gete  as  long  whyle  as  eny  on  erthe  be.  Myn  yldyr 
fadyr  hys  lond  on  the  same  wyse  be  qweythyd  to  the 
mawlys.  An  than  yf  I  take  hyt  on  eny  degre  to  wom- 
mennys  bond  I  wyll  that  aftyr  here  day  he  to  3elde  hyt 
to  my  mawlys  kyn  the  whyche  comyn  of  here.  And  yf 
they  by  here  lyf  lyvynge  hyt  will  have ;  and  yf  hyt  ell 
be,  than  go  hyt  ovyr  here  day  so  as  we  here  byfore  have 
be  qweythyd.  Ferthermore  I  sey  that  they  hyt  3elde  for 
the  lyvelode  of  my  kyn  to  whem  I  3eve  most  whether 
they  ben  mayde  chyldryn  or  sonys  as  me  best  lykyth 
and  I  bydde  on  goddys  name  and  on  all  halewene  that 
none  of  my  kyn  here  aftyrward  labor  not  a3enst  eny  of 
ther  kynrede  that  I  have  3yve  and  be  qweythyd  to,  here 
byfore.  And  w*  me  all  the  worthy nesse  of  west  saxone 
to  ry3t  consentyn  that  I  most  leve  hem  as  fre  as  thowt 
wheythyr  that  I  wyll,  and  I  for  goddys  love  and  for  my 
sowie  helthe  wylle  that  they  in  possessyon  of  here  fredom 
and  alle  here  kyred,  and  I  on  goddys  holy  name  comawnde 
that  them  no  man  wythsey  nother  w*  strenthe  nother 
w*  eny  thyng  that  they  ne  mote  sesyn  what  man  wham 
they  wylle  in  here  londys.  ^Aud  I  wyll  than  (sic)  men 
3eve  to  the  hows  at  domrahamme  here  land  bok  and  here 


170  ALFKKD'S  WILL,    IN    ENGLISH. 

tVedoniys  hem  to  seosya  what  houd  hera  lev3'8t  is,  for  me 
sind  for  Elflede  and  for  here  frendys  that  he  ys  bowiid  to 
sind  that  1  am  bounde  to  and  for  the  uedy  that  alyve  be 
to  kepe  hyt  that  yt  may  be  helthe  for  my  sowle,  and 
that  hyt  be  to  me  in  for^yvenesse  and  so  I  desyre  me  to 
be  for  3eve." 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL   PUBLICATIONS 


OF 


MESSRS.  TRUBNER  &  CO. 

60,   PATERNOSTER    ROW,   LONDON. 


IMPORTANT  TO 


iitenaM,  ©albcte  u!  $mh,  $i  $mhtl\m. 


In  Two  Volumes,  8vo.,  pp.  1950  of  Letter-press,  Seven  Ghromo-Litbograpliic  Plates 
of  Binding-Specimens,  Sixteen  fac-simile  Plates  of  Papyri  and  Early  Types, 
numerous  Woodcuts,  etc.   Price  £2  :  8s.;  Large  Paper,  £4  :  4s. 

MEMOIRS  OF  LIBRARIES: 

INCLUDING 

By  EDWARD  EDWARDS. 


^nftle  of  Contents. 

PART  I.— HISTORY  OF  LIBRARIES. 

(IN  FIVE  BOOKS.) 


Book  L— The  Libraries  of  the  Ancients. 
Chap.   1.  Introductory. 

„  2.  General  View  of  the  Libraries  of 
the  Ancients. 

„  3.  Passages  from  Greek  Anthers  re- 
Jating  to  Ancient  Libraries. 

„  4.  Passages  from  Latin  Authors  re- 
lating to  Ancient  Libraries. 

„  5.  Destruction  and  Dispersion  of 
Ancient  LiT)raries. 

Book  II.— The  Libraries  of  the  Middle 
Ages. 

Chap.   1.  Foundation  and  Growth  of  Monas- 
tei-ies  and  of  their  Libraries. 
„      2.  The  Libraries  of  the  English  Be- 
nedictines. 
„  Appendix  to  Chap.   2. — Catalogue 

of  the  Library  of  Christchurch 
Monastery,  Canterbury.  Now 
Jlrst  published  from  tlie  Cotton 
MS.  Gulba  £.  iv. 
3.  The  Libraries  of  the  German, 
Flemish,  and  Swiss  Benedictines. 


Chap.  4.  The  Libraries  of  the  Italian  and 

French  Benedictines. 
„      5.  The   Libraries  of  the   Mendicant 

Orders. 
„      6.  The    Economy    of    the   Monastic 

Libraries. 
„      7.  The   Decline   of  Learning  in   the 

English  Monasteries. 
„      8.  The    Dissolution   of    the   English 

Monasteries,   and   Dispersion  of 

their  Libraries. 
„      9.  Ro3'al,  Noble,   and  Plebeian   Col- 
lectors in  the  Middle  Ages. 

Book  HL— The  Modem  Libraries  of  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland. 

Chap.  1.  The    Formation    and    Growth    of 

the    several    Collections    which 

eventually  became  the   Library 

of  the  British  Museum: — '■ 

§     i.  T/ie    Old    Collection    of   the 

English  Kings. 
§    ii.  The  Cottonian  Library. 
§  iii.  The  Ilarleian  Library. 
§  iv.   The  Courten  and  Sloane  Col- 
lections. 


4     Publications  of  Messrs.  Triibner  8f  Co.,  60,  Paternoster  Row. 


EDWARDS'S  MEMOIRS  OF  LIBRARIES— con<mu«A 


Chap.  2  to  5.  History  and  Contents  of  the 
British  Museum 
„      6.  The   Origin    and    Growth   of  the 
Bodleian  Library. 
§     i.  The  Founder:  his  Enterprise 

and  hi.1  Helpers. 
§    ii.  History  of  the  Bodleian,  from 
the  time  of  Selden. 

„      7.  The    State  and    Prospects  of  the 
Bodleian  Library. 
§    i.  Notices  of  the  more  conspictiotu 

Bodleian  Treasures. 
§  ii.   The   Oxford  University  Com- 
mission of  1 854. 
Appendix  to  Chap.  7  : — 

(1.)  Note  on  the  Acquisition  of 

the  Selden  Library, 
C2.)  Hearne's    Account    of   his 
Dismissal  from  the  Under  Li- 
brarianship. 
„      8.  The   Minor    University    Libraries 
and  the  Collegiate  Libraries  of 
Oxford. 
„      9.  The  Public   Library  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Cambridge. 
„    10.  The  Minor  Libraries  of  Cambridge. 
„    II.  The  Public  Library  of  Humphrey 
Chethara  at  Manchester: — 
§     i.  Life  of  a   Manchester  Mer- 
chant during  the  Civil  Wars. 
§    ii.   The  Merchant's  Foundations 

under  Trusteeship. 
§  iii.  Character,  Contents,  and  De- 
fects of  the  Chetham  Li' 
brary. 
§  iv.    The  Chetham  Manuscripts. 
„    12.  The  Cathedral  Libraries  of  England. 
„    13.  The    Arclxiepiscopal    Library    at 

Lambeth  Palace. 
„    14.  The  Libraries  of  the  English  Inns 

of  Court. 
„    15.  The    Older   Libraries  of    English 
Towns,  and  their  Management 
by  Municipal  Corporations. 
„    16.  The  Parochial  and  Quasi-Parochial 
Libraries  of  England. 


Chap.  17.  The  History  of  the  Public  Libra- 
ries Acts  of  1850  and  1855. 

„  18.  The  Working  of  the  Public  Libra- 
ries Acts  of  1850  and  1855. 

„      19.  The  Law  Libraries  of  Edinburgh. 

„  20.  The  University,  Town,  and  Paro- 
chial Libraries  of  Scotland. 

„  21.  The  Librarj-  of  Trinity  College, 
Dublin,  and  the  other  chief  Li- 
braries of  Ireland. 

„      22.  The  Minor  Libraries  of  London. 

„  23.  British  Private  Libraries  which 
have  been  dispersed. 

„  24.  Notices  of  some  existing  British 
Private  Libraries. 

Book  IV.— The  Libraries  of  the  United 
States  of  America. 

Chap.  I.  The  Collegiate  Libraries. 

„      2.  The  Proprietary  Libraries. 

„      3.  The  Town  Libraries. 

„  4.  The  State  and  Congressioiial  Li- 
braries. 

„      5.  The  Smithsonian  Institution. 

„  6.  Public  School  and  District  Libra- 
ries. 

Book  v.— The  Modem  Libraries  of  Oonti- 
nental  Europe. 

Chap.  1.  The  Imperial  Library  of  France. 

„      2.  The  Minor  Libraries  at  Paris. 

„      3.  The  Provincial  Libraries  of  France. 

„      4.  The  Libraries  of  Italy. 

„  5.  The  Royal  and  National  Libraries 
of  the  German  States. 

„      6.  German  University  Libraries. 

„      7.  German  Town  Libraries. 

„  8.  The  Libraries  of  Belgium,  Holland, 
and  Switzerland. 

„  9.  The  Libraries  of  Sweden,  Den- 
mark, and  Norway. 

„  10.  The  Libraries  of  Poland,  Hungary, 
Russia,  and  Turkey. 

„  11.  The  Libraries  of  Spun  and  Por- 
tugal. 

„    12.  Past,  Present,  and  Fntnre. 


PART  II.— ECONOMY  OF  LIBRARIES. 

(IN  FOUR  BOOKS.) 


Book  L— Book-Collecting. 

Chap.  1.  Rudiments  of  Book-Collecting,  with 
more  especial  reference  to  Public 
Libraries. 

„      2.  Copy-Tax. 

„      3.  Gifts. 

„  4.  Public  Historiography  and  Public 
Printing. 


Chap.  5.  International  Exchanges. 
„      6.  Purchases : — 

§     i.  Choice    of  AvAors    cmd  qf 

Editions. 
§    ii.  Inferences  thai  may  be  drawn 
from  Library  Statistics  m 
the  selection  of  Books  for 
Purchase. 


Publications  of  Messrs.  Truhner  8f  Co.,  60,  Paternoster  Bow.     5 


EDWARDS'S  MEMOIRS  OF  UBRARlES-continued. 


Chap.  6.  §  iii.  Approximative  Estimates   of 
the  Cost  of  Libraries. 

§  iv.  Of  some  details  in  Booh-huying. 

§  v.  Of  fluctiMitions  in  the  Prices 
of  Books,  and  of  the  causes 
and  degrees  of  Rarity. 

§  vi.  0/*  the  Formation  of  Special 
Collections  of  Pamphlets. 

Book  IL— Buildings. 

Chap.  1.  Libraries  built. 
„      2.  Libraries  projected. 
„      3.  General  view   of   the    Structural 
requirements  of  a  Public  Librarj'. 
„      4.  Lighting,  Heating,  and  Furnishing. 

Book  HL— Classification  and  Catalogues. 

Chap.  1.  Of  Catalogues  generally. 


Chap.  2.  Survey  Of  the  principal  Systems 
which  have  been  proposed  for 
the  Classification  of  Human 
Knowledge  generally  or  of  Li- 
braries in  particular. 
„  3.  Examples  and  Details. 
„      4.  Indexes. 

„      5.  Local  Arrangement  and  its  appli- 
ances. 
Book  IV.— Internal  Organization  and 
Public  Service. 
Chap.  1.  Librarianship 

„      2.  The  Staff  and  Finance. 
„      3.  Bookbinding. 
„      4.  Regulation  of  Public  Access. 
„      5.  Reading-Room  Service  and  Appli- 
ances. 
„      6    Management  of  Lending  Libraries. 
„      7.  Recapitulatory. 


OPINIONS   OF   THE   PRESS. 


"  Of  the  industry  bestowed  upon  this  ex- 
tensive compilation,  and  of  the  marvellous 
condensation  of  fact  which  it  supplies,  it 
is  difficult  to  speak  in  terms  of  proper  com- 
mendation; even  to  the  most  accomplished 
bibliographer  it  cannot  fail  to  be  of  great 
service,  but  how  much  more  to  the  tyro  or 
ordinary  bibliographer." — Brownson's  Review. 
"  There  is  more  variety,  interest,  and  even 
life,  in  the  Memoirs  of  Libraries,  than  might 
be  expected.  Mr.  Edwards  has  a  more  com- 
prehensive mind  and  a  more  sensible  judg- 
ment than  always  characterise  the  tribe  of 
librarii.  His  style  has  not  an  undue  spirit 
of  rhetoric,  which  throws  off  anything  ap- 
proaching to  the  manner  of  Dryasdust." — 
Spectator. 

"Both  as  a  history  of  libraries  and  a 
manual  of  their  economy,  this  work  is  va- 
luable :  delightful  to  the  scholar  in  the  first 
respect;  in  the  second,  indispensable  to  the 
librarian." —  Critic. 

"  We  now  take  leave  of  these  volumes, 
feeling  that  we  have  given  a  very  imperfect 
indication  of  their  contents,  and  strongly  re- 
commend them  to  the  consideration  of  all 
persons  connected  with  or  interested  in  libra- 
ries, public  or  private,  because  they  contain 
a  vast  quantity  of  information  never  before 
collected,  and  much  that  would  be  sought 
for  in  vain  elsewhere." — Bookseller. 

"  Mr.  Edwards's  style  is  pleasant,  and  free 
from  the  slang  and  pedantry  of  many  more 
costly  productions  in  the  field  of  bibliogra- 
phy. If  we  feel  occasionally  inclined  to  differ 
from  the  author's  views  and  deductions,  we 
do  so  at  all  times  with  some  deference,  be- 
cause throughout  the  work  it  is  evident  that 


he  has  been  earnest  to  furnish  the  fullest  and 
most  satisfactory  information  which  it  was  in 
his  power  to  do." — Leader. 

"  It  is  now  generally  conceded  that  the 
civilization  of  a  people  may  be  judged  rather 
by  the  number  and  value  of  its  private  libra- 
ries, than  by  the  extent  and  magnificence  of 
those  provided  by  the  Sovereign.  Such  be- 
ing the  case,  it  is  incumbent  upon  us  to  ex- 
amine our  position  in  this  particular,  by  com- 
parison with  other  nations,  This  we  are  now 
enabled  to  do,  for  the  first  time,  by  the  aid 
afforded  in  Mr.  Edwards's '  Memoirs  of  Libra- 
ries,' which  exhibits  a  mass  of  evidence  such 
as  only  the  greatest  devotion  to  the  subject, 
perseveringly  continued  through  many  years, 
could  have  accumulated.  So  completely  is 
the  subject  exhausted,  that  it  would  be  vain 
and  useless  for  the  inquirer  to  push  his  re- 
searches further  in  order  to  obtain  a  clear 
view  of  the  libraries  of  the  past  and  present; 
for  what  of  interest  or  value  he  finds  not  in 
these  volumes  he  will  scarcely  hope  to  obtain 
elsewhere." — Gentleman's  Magazine. 

"  The  various  schemes  propounded  for  the 
classification  of  knowledge — the  extent  to 
which  libraries  may  safely  be  made  available 
for  public  use — their  iptemal  economy,  and 
the  qualifications  essential  for  their  manage- 
ment— these  are  subjects  which  it  would  have 
afforded  \is  both  pleasure  and  profit  to  have 
discussed  with  Mr.  Edwards.  But  it  is  time 
to  take  leave  of  him  with  the  respect  due  to 
a  writer  whom  some  diffuseness,  occasional 
want  of  discrimination,  and  a  few  doubtful 
views,  will  not  debar  from  a  cordial  reception 
wherever  industrj'  is  appreciated  or  erudition 
recognised." — Press. 


6     Publications  of  Messrs.  TViibner  8f  Co.,  60,  Paternoster  Roto. 


IMPORTANT  WORK  ON  ENGLISH  AND  AMERICAN 
LITERARY  HISTORY. 


i  Miml  fictimiartf  n!  fnglisl  Sitniate, 

AND  BRITISH  AND  AMERICAN  AUTHORS, 

LIVING  AND  DECEASED,   FROM  THE  EARLIEST  ACCOUNTS  TO  THE 
MIDDLE  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 

ContatntHg  31,000  Biogn^ie»  and  Literary  Notices,     With  an  Index  of  Sabject  Matter. 

By  S.  AUSTIN  ALLIBONE. 


The  Second  Volume  (letter  K.  to  Z,  likewise  exceeding  1000  pp.),  which  is  in  a 
very  forward  state  (being  stereotyjwd  as  far  as  the  letter  S),  will  complete  the  work, 
and  be  published,  with  a  most  elaborate  Index  of  Subject-Matter,  in  the  Autumn  of 
1S59,  on  the  same  terms  as  the  first  Volume. 

The  above  important  work  was  originally  announced  to  be  published  in  1857,  in 
one  Volume,  imperial  8vo.,  of  about  1500  pages,  and  the  first  appeal  to  the  public 
on  its  behalf  was  signally  successful.  The  delay  in  the  publication  seems  to  have 
caused  a  feeling  of  disappointment  among  the  patrons  of  the  work,  but  it  is  hoped 
that  this  feeling  will  give  way  to  one  of  lively  satisfaction  when  tlie  first  half  of  it  is 
examined.  The  high  expectations  raised  by  the  mere  announcement  made  it  inciun- 
bent  upon  the  Author  and  Publishers  to  spare  no  expense  or  trouble  to  bring  the 
work  to  the  greatest  state  of  perfection ;  and  although  stereotyped  to  the  letter  H  at 
the  time  it  was  first  announced,  that  portion  has  been  entirely  revised,  partly  re- 
written, and  so  much  new  matter  introduced,  that  the  subscribers  will  now  receive 
above  2000  pages,  at  no  increase  of  price. 


DESCRIPTIVE  TITLE. 

The  characteristics  of  the  work,  which  have  not  been  united  in  any  previous  nnder^ 
taking  of  the  kind,  are  as  follow  : — 

"1.  It  is  a  Biographical  IHctiouary  of  English  and  American  Authors,  comprising 
both  the  living  and  the  dead;  furnishing  those  incidents  respecting  the  persons  who 
have  made  themselves  famous  in  the  Republic  of  Letters,  which  every  reader  desires 
to  know,  and  few  know  where  to  find. 

"2.  It  is  a  Bibliographical  Manual,  giving  information  aa  to  the  best  editions  of 
authors,  the  circumstances  attending  their  publication,  the  reception  which  they  met 
with  from  the  public,  the  influence  they  have  exercised  on  the  public  mind,  and  many 
other  interesting  particulars,  not  one  of  which  the  true  lover  of  books  and  student  of 
letters  would  '  willingly  let  die.' 

"  As  a  Bibliographical  Manual,  the  Index,  which  forms  the  second  portion  of  the 
volume,  will  prove  no  small  addition  to  its  value.  In  this  Index  the  subjects  of 
human  knowledge  are  divided  into  forty  distinct  classes,  and  an  alphabet  is  allotted 
to  each.  By  this  means  the  reader  is  enabled  to  see  at  a  glance  who  are  the 
principal  writers  on  all  subjects,  from  Agriculture,  Class  1st,  to  Voyages,  Class  40Uj. 


Publications  of  Messrs.  Trubner  8f  Co.y  60,  Paternoster  Row.     11 


TRUBNER'S  BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  GUIDE— contifiued. 

XI.  Education. 

XVIII.  Military  Science. 

1.  Theory  of  Education. 

XIX.  Naval  Science. 

2.  College  and  School-books. 

XX.  Rural  and  Domestic  Economy. 

3.  Juvenile  Books. 

XXI.  Politics. 

XII.  Modern  Languages. 

XXn.  Commerce. 

XIII.  Philology  —  Classical,      Oriental, 

XXIII.  Belles  Lettres  (Criticism,  Novels, 

Comparative. 

Dramas,  Poems). 

XIV.  American    Antiquities,    Indians, 

XXIV.  Fine  Arts. 

and  Languages. 

XXV.  Music. 

XV.  History. 

XXVI.  Freemasonry. 

1.  European,  Asiatic,  African, 

XXVII.  Mormonism. 

etc. 

XXVIIL  Spiritualism. 

2.  American  History. 

XXIX  Guide-books. 

3.  Biography. 

XXX.  Maps  and  Atlases. 

XVI,  Geography. 

XXXI.  Periodicals. 

XVII.  Useful  Arts.  (Architecture,  Manu- 

XXXII. Addenda. 

facture,  Mechanics,  etc.) 

Alphabetical  Index. 

This  work,  it  is  believed  is  the  first  attempt  to  marshal  the  Literatm-e  of  the 
United  States  of  America  during  the  last  forty  years,  according  to  the  generally 
received  bibliographical  canons.  The  Librarian  will  welcome  it,  no  doubt,  as  a 
companion  volume  to  Brunet,  Lowndes  and  Ebert,  whilst  to  the  bookseller  it  will 
be  a  faithful  guide  to  the  American  branch  of  English  Literature — a  branch  which, 
on  account  of  its  rapid  increase  and  rising  importance,  begins  to  force  itself  daily 
more  and  more  upon  his  attention.  Nor  will  the  work  be  of  less  interest  to  the 
man  of  letters,  inasmuch  as  it  comprises  complete  Tables  of  Contents  to  all  the  more 
prominent  Collections  of  the  Americans,  to  the  Journals,  Memoirs,  Proceedings  and 
Transactions  of  their  learned  Societies — and  thus  furnishes  an  intelligible  key  to  a 
department  of  American  scientific  activity  hitherto  but  imperfectly  known  and 
understood  in  Europe. 


12    Publications  of  Messrs.  Triibner  8f  Co.,  60,  Paternoster  Bote. 

A  HANDBOOK  OP  AFRICAN,  AUSTRALIAN, 
AND  POLYNESIAN  PHILOLOGY, 

As  represented  in  the  Library  of  His  Excellency  Sir  George  Grey,  E.C.B. 
her  majesty's  uigh  commissionee  of  the  cape  colony. 

Classed,  Annotated,  and  Edited  bt 

Sir  GEORGE  GREY  and  Dr.  W.  H.  J.  BLEEK. 


VoL  I.  Part  I.— South  Africa,  8vo.  pp.  186.     7».  6d. 

Vol.  I.  Part  2.— Africa  (North  of  the  Tropic  of  Capricorn),  8vo.  pp.  70.     2t. 

Vol.  II.  Part  1. — Australia,  8vo.  pp.  iv.,  44.     1«.  6d. 

Vol.  II.  Part  2. — Papuan  Languages  of  the  Loyalty  Islands  and  New  Hebrides, 
comprising  those  of  the  Islands  of  Nengone,  Lifu,  Aneiteum, 
Tana,  and  others,  8vo.  pp.  12.     6d. 

Vol.  II.  Parts. — Fiji  Islands  and  Rotuma  (with  Supplement  to  Part  2,  Papuan 
Languages,  and  Part  1,  Australia.)     8vo.  pp.  34.     1». 

Vol.  II.  Part  4. — New  Zealand,  the  Chatham  Islands,  and  Auckland  Islands,  Svo. 
pp.  76.     3s.  6d. 

Vol.  II.  Part  4  (Continuation). — Polynesia  and  Borneo,  Svo.  pp.  77  to  154.    3«.  6rf. 


The  above  is,  without  exception,  the  most  important  addition  yet  made  to  African 
Philology.  The  amount  of  materials  brought  together  by  Sir  George,  with  a  view  to 
elucidate  the  subject,  is  stupendous;  and  the  labour  bestowed  on  them,  and  the  results 
arrived  at,  incontestably  establish  the  claim  of  the  Author  to  be  called  the  father  of 
African  and  Polynesian  Philology. 


OPINIONS   OF   THE   PRESS. 


"  We  congratulate  the  Governor  of  the 
Cape  on  the  production  of  a  most  important 
aid  to  the  study  of  the  twin  sciences  of 
philology  and  ethnology,  and  look  forward  to 
the  completion  of  the  Catalogue  itself  as  a 
great  and  permanent  step  towards  civilization 
of  the  barbarous  races  whose  formation,  ha- 
bits, language,  religion,  and  food,  are  all,  more 
or  less,  most  carefully  noted  in  its  pages." — 
Leader. 


"  It  is  for  these  substantial  reasons  that  we 
deemed  it  worth  a  brief  notice  to  call  atten- 
tion to  these  excellently  arranged  Catalogues 
(with  important  notes),  describing  the  vari- 
rious  works  in  the  library  of  Sir  George  Grey, 
and  by  which  this  great  philanthropist  wUl 
greatly  aid  in  civilizing  the  numerous  peoples 
within  tlie  limit  of  the  colony  of  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope." — Brighton  Gcuette. 


Publications  of  Messrs.  Truhner  8f  Co.,  60,  Paternoster  Row.    13 


TRUBNER'S   BIBLIOTHECA   GLOTTICA. 


THE  LITERATURE 

OF 

AMERICAN   ABORIGINAL   LANGUAGES. 

By  HERMANN  E.  LUDEWIG. 

With  Additions  and  Corrections  by  Professor  Wm.  W.  TURNER. 

Edited  by  NICOLAS  TRUBNER. 


8vo. ;  fly  and  general  Title,  2  leaves;  Dr.  Ludewig's  Preface,  pp.  v — viii;  Editors' 
Preface,  pp.  ix — xii;  Biographical  Memoir  of  Dr.  Ludewig,  pp.  xiii,  xiv  ;  and 
Introductory  Bibliographical  Notices,  pp.  xiv — xxiv,  followed  by  List  of  Con- 
tents. Then  follow  Dr.  Ludewig's  Bibliotheca  Glottica,  alphabetically  arranged, 
with  additions  by  the  Editor,  pp.  1 — 209 ;  Professor  Turner's  additions,  with  those 
of  the  Editor  to  the  same,  also  alphabetically  arranged,  pp.  210 — 246;  Index,  pp. 
247 — 256;  and  list  of  Errata,  pp.  257,  258.  One  volume,  handsomely  bound  in 
cloth,  price  10s.  6d. 

This  work  is  intended  to  supply  a  great  want,  now  that  the  study  of  Ethnology 
has  proved  that  exotic  languages  are  not  mere  curiosities,  but  essential  and  interesting 
parts  of  the  natural  history  of  man,  forming  one  of  the  most  curious  links  in  the  great 
chain  of  national  affinities,  defining  as  they  do  the  reciprocity  existing  between  man 
and  the  soil  he  lives  upon.  No  one  can  venture  to  write  the  history  of  America 
without  a  knowledge  of  her  aboriginal  languages ;  and  unimportant  as  such  researches 
may  seem  to  men  engaged  in  the  mere  bustling  occupations  of  life,  they  will  at  least 
acknowledge  that  these  records  of  the  past,  like  the  stern-lights  of  a  departing  ship, 
are  the  last  glimmers  of  savage  life,  as  it  becomes  absoi'bed  or  recedes  before  the 
tide  of  civilization.  Dr.  Ludewig  and  Professor  Turner  have  made  most  diligent  use 
of  the  public  and  private  collections  in  America,  access  to  all  of  which  was  most 
liberally  granted  to  them.  This  has  placed  at  their  disposal  the  labours  of  the  Ame- 
rican Missionaries,  so  little  known  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  that  they  may  be 
looked  upon  almost  in  the  light  of  untrodden  ground.  But  English  and  Continental 
libraries  have  also  been  ransacked  ;  and  Dr.  Ludewig  kept  up  a  constant  and  active 
correspondence  with  scholars  of  "  the  Fatherland,"  as  well  as  with  men  of  similar- 
tastes  and  pursuits  in  France,  Spain,  and  Holland,  determined  to  leave  no  stone 
unturned  to  render  his  labours  as  complete  as  possible.  The  volume,  perfect  in 
itself,  is  the  first  of  an  enlarged  edition  of  Vater's  "  Linguarum  totius  orbis  Index." 
The  work  has  been  noticed  by  the  press  of  both  Continents,  and  we  may  be  permitted 
to  refer  particularly  to  the  following  : 

OPINIONS   OF   THE   PRESS. 


"  This  work,  mainly  the  production  of  the 
late  Herr  Ludewig,  a  German  naturalized  in 
America,  is  devoted  to  an  account  of  the  lite- 
rature of  the  aboriginal  languages  of  that 
country.  It  gives  an  alphabetical  list  of  the 
various  tribes  of  whose  languages  any  record 


remains,  and  refers  to  the  works,  papers,  or 
manuscripts,  in  which  such  information  may 
be  found.  The  work  has  evidently  been  a 
labour  of  love ;  and  as  no  pains  seems  to 
have  been  spared  by  the  editors,  Prof.  Turner 
and  Mr.  Trdbner,  in  rendering  the  work  as 


14    Publications  of  Messrs.  Trubner  ^  Co.,  60,  Paternoster  Row. 


TRUBNER'S  BIBLIOTHECA  GLOTTICA— confimiedL 


accurate  and  complete  as  posable,  those  who 
arc  most  interested  in  its  contents  will  be  best 
able  to  judge  of  the  labour  and  assiduity  be- 
stowed upon  it  by  author,  editors,  and  pub- 
lisher,"— AthcntBum,  5th  April,  1858. 

"  This  is  the  first  instalment  of  a  work 
wliich  will  bo  of  the  greatest  value  to  philo- 
logists ;  and  is  a  compendium  of  the  abori- 
ginal languages  of  the  American  continents, 
and  a  digest  of  all  the  known  literature  bear- 
ing upon  those  languages.  Mr,  Triibner's 
hand  has  been  engaged  pattim,  and  in  his 
preface  he  lays  claim  to  about  one-sixth  of 
the  whole ;  and  we  have  no  doubt  that  the 
encouragement  with  which  this  portion  of  the 
work  will  be  received  by  scholars,  will  be 
such  as  to  inspire  Mr.  Triibner  with  snfilcient 
coiifiilence  to  persevere  in  his  arduous  and 
most  honourable  task" — The  Critic,  15th 
Dec.  1857. 

"  Few  would  believe  that  a  good  octavo 
volume  would  be  necessary  to  exhaust  the 
subject;  yet  so  it  is,  and  this  handsome,  use- 
ful, and  curious  volume,  carefully  compiled 
by  Mr.  Ludewig, assisted  by  Professor  Turner, 
and  edited  by  the  careful  hand  of  Mr.  Triib- 
ner, the  well-known  jiublisher,  will  be  sure  to 
find  a  place  in  many  libraries," — Bent's  Ad- 
vertiser, 6th  Nov.  1857. 

"  The  lovers  of  Aitaerican  linguistios  will 
find  in  the  work  of  Mr.  Triibner  scarcely  any 
point  omitted  calaulated  to  aid  the  compara^ 
tive  philologer  in  tracing  the  various  lan- 
guages of  the  great  Western  Continent." — 
Galway  Mercury,  30th  Jan,  1858. 

"  Only  those  deeply  versed  in  philological 
studies  can  appreciate  this  book  at  its  full 
value.  It  shows  that  there  are  upwards  of 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  aboriginal  American 
languages."  —  GerUlenum's  Magazine,  Feb. 
1858. 

"  The  work  contains  an  account  of  no 
fewer  than  seven  hundred  different  aboriginal 
dialects  of  America,  with  an  introductory 
chapter  of  bibliographical  information ;  and 
under  each  dialect  is  an  account  of  any  gnun- 
mars  or  other  works  illustrative  of  it." — The 
Bookseller  j  Jan.  1858. 

"  We  have  here  the  list  of  monuments  still 
existing  of  an  almost  innumerable  series  of 
languages  and  dialects  of  the  American  Con- 
tinent. The  greater  part  of  Indian  gram- 
ni.irs  and  vocabularies  exist  only  in  MS.,  and 
were  compiled  chiefly  by  Missionaries  of  the 
Christian  Church ;  and  to  Dr.  Ludewig  and 
Mr,  Triibner,  we  are,  therefore,  the  more  in- 
debted for  the  great  care  with  which  they 
have  pointed  out  where  such  are  to  be  found, 
as  well  as  for  enumerating  those  which  have 
been  printed,  either  in  a  separate  shape,  in    I 


collections,  or  in  voyages  and  travels,  and 
elsewhere." — Leader,  11th  Sept.  1858, 

"  I  have  not  time,  nor  is  it  my  purpose,  to 
go  into  a  review  of  this  admirable  work,  or 
to  attempt  to  indicate  the  extent  an^  value 
of  its  contents.  It  is,  perhaps,  enough  to  say, 
that  apart  from  a  concise  hut  clear  enumera- 
tion and  notice  of  the  various  general  philo- 
logical works  which  troat  with  greater  or 
less  fulness  of  American  languages,  or  whick 
incidentally  touch  upon  their  bibliography, 
it  contains  not  less  than  256  closely-printed 
octavo  pages  of  bibliographical  notices  of 
grammars,  vocabularies,  eto.,  of  the  aboriginal 
languages  of  America.  It  is  a  peculiar  and 
valuable  feature  of  the  work  that  not  only 
the  titles  of  printed  or  published  grammara 
or  vocabularies  are  given,  bat  also  that  tm- 
published  or  MS.  works  of  these  kinds  are 
noticed  in  all  cases  where  they  are  known 
to  exist,  but  wliich  have  di8ap|)eared  among 
the  dibrit  of  the  suppressed  convents  and  re> 
ligious  establishments  of  Spanish  America.* 
— E.'O.  Sjuier,  in  a  paper  read  before  the 
American  FAhnological  Society,  12th  Jan, 
1858. 

"  In  consequence  of  the  death  of  the  author 
before  he  had  finished  the  revisal  of  the  work, 
it  has  been  carefidly  examined  by  competent 
scholars,  who  have  also  made  many  valuable 
additions." — American  Pvbliaheri'  Circular, 
30th  Jan,  1858. 

"  It  contains  256  closely-printed  pages  of 
titles  of  printed  books  and  manuscripts,  and 
notices  of  American  aboriginal  languages,  and 
embraces  references  to  nearly  all  that  has 
been  written  or  published  respecting  them, 
whether  in  special  works  or  incidentally  in 
books  of  travel,  periodicals,  or  proceedings  of 
learned  societies." — New  York  Herald,  29th 
Jan.  1858. 

^  The  manner  in  which  this  coutrihntion 
to  tlie  bibliography  of  American  languages 
has  been  executed,  both  by  the  author,  Mr. 
Ludewig,  and  the  able  writers  who  have 
edited  the  work  since  his  death,  is  spoken  of 
in  the  highest  terms  by  gentlemen  most  con- 
versant with  the  subject." — Atnerioan  Histo- 
rical Maffozitte,  Vol.  II.,  No.  5,  May,  1858. 

"  Je  terminerai  en  anon^ant  le  premier 
volume  d'une  publication  appel^e  a  rendre 
de  grands  8er\ices  a  la  philologie  compar^e 
et  a  la  linguistique  g^n^nUe.  Je  veux  parler 
de  la  Bibliothcca  Glottica,  ouvrage  devant 
renfenner  la  liste  de  tous  les  dictioimaires  et 
de  toutes  les  grammaires  des  langues  oon- 
nues,  tant  imprimis  que  manuscrits.  L'6ii- 
tenr,  de  cette  precleuse  bibliographic  est  M. 
Nicolas  Triibner,  dont  le  nom  est  honorable- 
ment   connu  dans  le  monde  oriental.      Le 


Publications  of  Messrs.  Triibner  8f  Co,y  60,  Paternoster  Roto.    15 


TRUBNER'S  BIBLIOTHECA  G1,0TTICX— continued. 


premier  volume  est  consacre  aux  idiomes 
Am^ricaineB ;  le  Becond  doit  traiter  des  lan- 
gues  de  I'lnde.  Le  travail  est  fait  avec  le 
soin  le  plus  consciencieox,  et  fera  honneur  a 
M.  Nicolas  Triibner,  surtout  s'il  poursuit  son 
oeuvre  avec  le  m§me  ardeur  qu'il  mise  a  le 
commencer. " — L.  Leon  de  Rosny,  Revue  de 
t  Orient,  Fevrier,  1858. 

"  Mr.  TrSbner's  most  important  work  on 
the  bibliography  of  the  aboriginal  languages 
of  America  is  deserving  of  all  praise,  as  emi- 
nently useful  to  those  who  study  that  branch 
of  literature.  The  value,  too,  of  the  book, 
and  of  the  pains  which  its  compilation  must 
have  cost,  wUl  not  be  lessened  by  the  con- 
sideration that  it  is  first  in  this  field  of  lin- 
guistic literature."  —  Petermanris  Geogra- 
phische  Mittheilungen,  p.  79,  Feb.  1858. 

"  Undoubtedly  this  volume  of  Triibner's 
Bibliotheca  Glottica  ranks  amongst  the  most 
valuable  additions  which  of  late  years  have 
enriched  our  bibliographical  literature.  To 
us  Germans  it  is  most  gratifying  that  the 
initiative  has  been  taken  by  a  German  book- 
seller himself,  one  of  the  most  intelligent  and 
active  of  our  countrymen  abroad,  to  produce 
a  work  which  has  higher  aims  than  mere 
pecuniary  profit,  and  that  he,  too,  has  la- 
boured at  its  production  with  his  own  hands; 
because  daily  it  is  becoming  a  circumstance 
of  rarer  occurrence  that,  as  in  this  case,  it  is 
a  bookseller's  primary  object  to  serve  the 
cause  of  literature  rather  than  to  enrich  him- 
self."—  P.  Tromel,  BorsenbkOt,  4th  Jan. 
1858. 

"  In  the  compilation  of  the  work  the  editors 
have  availed  themselves  not  only  of  the  la- 
bours of  Vater,  Barton,  Duponceau,  Gallatin, 
De  Souza,  and  others,  but  also  of  the  MS. 
sources  left  by  the  missionaries,  and  of  many 
books  of  which  even  the  library  of  the  British 
Museum  is  deficient,  and  furnish  the  fullest 
account  of  tlie  literature  of  no  less  than  525 
languages.  The  value  of  the  work,  so  neces- 
sary to  the  study  of  ethnology,  is  greatly 
enhanced  by  the  addition  of  a  good  Index." 
— Berliner  National-Zeitung,  22nd  Nov.  1857. 

"  The  name  of  the  author,  to  all  those  who 
are  acquainted  with  his  former  works,  and 
who  know  the  thoroughness  and  profound 
character  of  his  investigations,  is  a  sufficient 


guarantee  that  this  work  will  be  one  of 
standard  authority,  and  one  that  will  fully 
answer  the  demands  of  the  present  time." — 
Petzholdfs  Anzeiger,  Jan.  1858. 

"  The  chief  merit  of  the  editor  and  pub- 
lisher is  to  have  terminated  the  work  care- 
fully and  lucidly  in  contents  and  form,  and 
thus  to  have  established  a  new  and  'largely 
augmented  edition  of  "  Voter's  Linguarum 
totius  orbit  Index,"  after  Professor  Julg's  re- 
vision of  1847.  In  order  to  continue  and 
complete  this  work  the  editor  requires  the 
assistance  of  all  those  who  are  acquainted 
with  this  new  branch  of  science,  and  we  sin- 
cerely hope  it  may  be  accorded  to  him." — 
Magazinfiir  die  Literatur  des  Axislandes,  No. 
38,  1858. 

"  As  the  general  title  of  the  book  indicates, 
it  will  be  extended  to  the  languages  of  the 
other  Continents  in  case  it  meet  with  a  fa- 
vourable reception,  which  we  most  cordially 
wish  it." — A.  F.  Pott.,  Preussische  Jahr- 
bucher,  Vol.  II.  part  1. 

"  Cette  compilation  savante  est  sans  con- 
tredit,  le  travail  bibliographique  le  plus  im- 
portant que  notre  epoque  ait  vu  surgir  sur  les 
nations  indigenes  de  I'Amerique."  —  Nou- 
velles  Annates  des  Voyages.     Avril,  1859. 

"  La  Bibliotheca  Glottica,  dont  M.  Nicolas 
Triibner  a  commence  la  publication,  est  ua 
des  livres  les  plus  utiles  qui  aient  jamais  et6 
r^dig^s  pour  faciliter  I'dtude  de  la  philologie 
comparee.  Le  premier  tome  de  cette  grande 
bibhographie  lingmstique  comprend  la  liste 
textuelle  de  toutes  les  grammaires,  de  tons 
les  dictionnaires  et  des  vocabulaires  mSme  les 
moins  6tendus  qui  ont  6te  imprimes  dans  les 
differents  dialectes  des  deux  Ameriques;  en 
outre,  il  fait  connaitre  les  ouvrages  manu- 
scrits  de  la  m^me  nature  renfermes  dans 
les  principales  bibliotheques  publiques  et  par- 
ticulieres.  Ce  travail  a  dfl  n^cessiter  de  lon- 
gues  et  patientes  recherches;  aussi  m^rite- 
t-il  d'attirer  tout  particuliferement  I'attention 
des  philologues.  Puissent  les  autres  volumes 
de  cette  bibliotheque  ^tre  rediges  avec  le 
meme  soin  et  se  trouver  bientot  entre  les 
mains  de  tons  les  savants  auxquels  ils  peu- 
vent  rendre  des  services  inappreciables." — 
Revue  Americaine  et  Orientate,  No.  I.,  Oct. 
1858. 


The  Editor  has  also  received  most  kind  and  encouraging  letters  respecting  the 
work  from  Sir  George  Grey,  the  Chevalier  Bunsen,  Dr.  Th.  Goldstucker,  Mr.  Watts 
(of  the  Museum),  Professor  A.  Fr.  Pott  (of  Halle),  Dr.  Julius  Petzholt  (of  Dresden), 
Hofrath  Dr.  Grasse  (of  Dresden),  M.  F.  F.  de  la  Figaniere  (of  Lisbon),  E.  Edwards 
(of  Manchester),  Dr.  Max  MUller  (of  Oxford),  Dr.  Buschmann  (of  Berlin),  Dr.  Jiilg 
(of  Cracow),  and  other  linguistic  scholars. 


16    Publications  of  Messrs.  Triibner  8f  Co.,  60,  Paternoster  How. 


TRUBNER'S  BIBLIOTHECA  TECHNICA:  A  SUBJECT- 
MATTER  INDEX  TO  THE  PUBLISHED  INVENTIONS  OF 
ALL  NATIONS,  1823  TO  1853  INCLUSIVE.  In  I  vol.  8vo.,  pp.  viii., 
26,  xvi.  1050.     24s. 

The  object  of  this  work  is  to  record  in  the  form  of  a  Dictionary  the  Literature  of 
Technology  and  its  kindred  branches,  dispersed  over  the  different  Journals  and  Magazines 
of  all  Nations. 


Sn  tilt  ^xtn^t 

MAPOTECA    COLOMBIANA:    CATALOGO  DE  TODOS  LOS 
MAP  AS,    PLANOS,    VISTAS,    ETC.,    RELATIVOS    A    LA 
AMERICA-ESPANOLA,   BRASIL,   E  ISLAS  ADYACENTES.     Por 

el  Dr.  EzEQUiEL  Uricoechea,  de  Bogota,  Nueva  Granada.     1  vol.  Svo. 
A  very  useful  companion  to  all  works  relating  to  the  Bibliography  of  America. 

BIBLIOTHEQUE  AMERICAINE :  OU  CATALOGUE  RAISONNE 
DUNE  PRECIEUSE  COLLECTION  DE  LIVRES  RELATIFS 
A  L'AMERIQUE  QUI  ONT  PARU  DEPUIS  SA  DECOUVERTE 
JUSQU'A  L'AN   1700.     Par  Paul  Troemel.    8vo. 

Amongst  the  556  articles  of  which  the  Collection  consists,  at  least  100  arc  not  men- 
tioned by  any  bibliographer.  Indeed,  only  about  150  of  them  are  found  in  Temaux  and 
Rich,  which  of  itself  is  ample  testimony  of  the  importance,  and  must  secure  to  the  publica- 
tion more  than  ordinary  interest  in  the  eyes  of  bibliographers  and  literary  men. 

TRUBNER'S  BIBLIOTHECA  JAPONICA:  A  DESCRIPTIVE 
LIST  OF  BOOKS  ILLUSTRATIVE  OF  JAPAN  AND  THE 
JAPANESE,  FROM  1542  TO  THE  PRESENT  TIME.  Edited,  with 
Critical  and  Historical  Notes,  by  Dr.  G.  M.  Asher. 

The  al)0ve  work  cannot  fail  to  prove  of  great  interest  now  that  Japan  is  thrown  open  for 
European  enterprise.  The  best  Dutch,  German,  Portuguese,  Spanish,  Italian,  French. 
English,  Russian,  and  American  Authorities,  have  been  consulted  in  its  production. 


TRtJBNER  &  CO., 
60,   PATERNOSTER    ROW,   LONDON. 


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